


Insanity Underrated

by Thrace Addicted (Amidala_Thrace)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 72
Words: 295,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amidala_Thrace/pseuds/Thrace%20Addicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Kara rescues herself from a Viper crash on a desert moon, Lee realizes how truly important she has become to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _"You are beyond insane!"_ \- Lee Adama to Kara Thrace, Miniseries
> 
>  _"Bright, shiny futures are overrated anyway."_
> 
> "That is why we gotta get what we can. Right now." - Lee Adama and Kara Thrace, "Scar"
> 
> This story takes place in an alternate universe, a universe in which Lee Adama recognizes and acts on his feelings for Kara Thrace far sooner than he did in canon. I have an outline for this story starting in S1 and ending in S4.5, and I intend to follow it pretty carefully.
> 
> However, as much as Lee's recognizing his feelings earlier on becomes a part of this story, neither do I treat that plot point as a blanket excuse to pair two of my favourite characters together and in so doing destroy the universe that Ronald D. Moore and his collaborators created. I have a great deal of respect for RDM & Co., and therefore you will find many, if not all, elements in this fic with which you are familiar with from canon. Lee and Kara are still Lee and Kara, and they behave as such. When I write an AU, my aim is always, _always_ to respect the canonical framework while at the same time allowing for whatever minor deviations I choose to impose. Therefore, many events in this fic follow those in canon. But there are also some very necessary deviations along the way, owing to the nature of the plot as it develops. Rest assured that a _ton_ of thought has gone into the events in this fic, and no canonical plot element has been removed without a heck of a lot of thought beforehand.
> 
> And the title? Well, as you can likely see above, _Insanity Underrated_ comes from a slight alteration of two quotes which are often used in connection with Lee and Kara. Beyond that, I can't really say more, but I hope that the title's intent will become clearer to you as you read.
> 
> Welcome to _Insanity Underrated_.

_You wanna give me a bath?_

Frak it, why now?

 _Now_ , he needed to get to sleep. _Now_ , because he had CAP in the morning and with Starbuck's absence, he'd have to pull an extra shift. _Now_ , because he only had about four hours. His rational, logical mind knew this. But damn it, he couldn't get her words out of his brain, nor could he get rid of what he would have answered if he'd gotten the chance.

Lee knew the entire thing sounded stupid and ridiculous. About the only thing _more_ stupid and ridiculous was that he had these thoughts in the first place, about a woman who was for all intents and purposes still his little brother's fiancée. Zak had died two years ago, and Lee hadn't seen Kara since the funeral. Oh, he'd tried, tried to draw up courage to look up her address and see how she was doing. A couple times he'd even found himself right outside her building. But turning up like that, unannounced, with no purpose in mind other than to — what? Tell her he was sorry? Tell her he missed Zak too? Tell her that the _real_ reason he was staying away from her was because he'd felt an instant attraction? No, none of those would work, and he'd flushed at the very _thought_ of that last statement. So, he never went inside to look for her apartment.

And then they'd ended up here, on this rattletrap battlestar. Fighting for their lives, yes, and with most of their civilization dead, but that was hardly enough to prevent his mind from wandering. He'd been in the process of working up courage when she disappeared, vanished onto that moon, and Lee had panicked, thinking he would never be able to say what he really wanted to say, do what he wanted to do. And as soon as he'd seen her on the stretcher all of that had come rushing back. Along with his fear, the fear he tried to repress, that they would leave her for dead on that moon. That they almost _had_.

Lee was good at repressing. Usually. But for some reason his vaunted skill was failing him tonight.

He wished that the bottoms of racks were more interesting to look at; maybe that way he could stop seeing Kara's face imprinted upon the one above him every time he opened his eyes. She was there when he shut them too, her cocky smile and flippant tone belying the pain and exhaustion she must have felt as they loaded her onto the stretcher.

 _Frak this._

Lee got up and began to dress almost before he understood that he'd made a decision to do so, and by the time he knew that, he had already left the bunkroom and was walking along the quiet halls. When he grasped his destination a hot blush crept up his cheeks. What was he _doing?_ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. And yet he couldn't stop; it was a compulsion. His feet were carrying him to sickbay and he really had very little say in the matter.

It was quiet and dark, most patients either in drug-induced comas or simply asleep. Lee strode right to the end of the ward, peering around the curtain, needing to _see_ her.

Kara lay on her back, head turned slightly to one side and mouth half open, sleeping peacefully. He slipped into the cubicle and stood in the shadows, just out of sight, just _watching_ her. Part of him, a significant part, felt like a voyeur, and he hated himself for it. But another part was relieved, pleased, as though he belonged there. As though this was the natural place for him to be, seeing her, making sure she was all right.

They almost lost her. They almost lost her, and he'd been ready to give up. He, _Lee Adama_ , had been ready to give up. Of course, not without logic's interference and a stern lecture from President Roslin. But still, he'd agreed with his father that the search ought to be called off. Felt startled when he'd gone out in pursuit of what they thought was an enemy Raider and not found her by his side, in her Viper, ready to run point. Felt shock, surprise, and then an overwhelming rush of _love_ when he saw the letters S-T-A-R-B-U-C-K chalked on the Raider's wings.

 _Love?_

Really, Lee? Love?

Yes, damn it. Love.

He half-turned, looking for a surface to lean against so he could clear his head, and unexpectedly felt eyes on his back. Eyes, and then —

"Lee?" _Her voice_ , foggy with exhaustion, but still her voice. "What the frak are you doing here?"

"I —" But she didn't sound angry, so Lee decided against coming up with some lame excuse. "I just — I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Kara snorted, but it was an affectionate noise. "Gods, I'm fine. Well." She half-poked her tongue out of her mouth in a gesture he unexpectedly adored. "Busted knee, bumps and bruises, exhaustion —"

"Which you define as _fine?_ " Lee blurted out.

"I've had worse." She narrowed her eyes.

He narrowed his right back. "When?"

Kara looked away, towards the wall, and then to the ceiling, shifting slightly as her gaze finally landed on the bedside table. Lee looked too and saw a glass half-full of water, two round white pills next to it.

"Answer my question," he said quietly.

"Frak you." She whipped back the covers and attempted to get her elbows underneath her, wanting to pull up, but her knee moved unexpectedly and Kara hissed in pain. " _Shit_. Go away, Lee."

She acted cranky when she was hurting; he remembered that much. So he didn't say another word, simply picking up the pills and handing them to her. "These what you're looking for?"

Her glare could have burned a hole through steel as she snatched them from his hand and shoved them in her mouth. Lee dutifully handed over the water and then, without even thinking, slid one arm around her shoulders to prop her up. It was only her breath hitching that let him know, and then he wasn't sure whether to withdraw the support or keep it. In the end, acknowledgement of the principles of gravity won out, and his grasp tightened to make sure she didn't fall.

"You're welcome," Lee said as Kara finished the glass.

"Thank you," she snapped, the contempt in her tone undisguised. "Now take your frakking hands off me."

He did, but slowly, lowering her gently back down to the pillow. If the light were better he might — _might_ — just have thought there was a blush colouring her cheeks, but that couldn't possibly be right. After all, this was _Starbuck_ , who'd just informed him quite plainly that he was to get out of her sight. Why hadn't he obeyed that command, too?

Perhaps because that was one thing she couldn't make him do right now.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Lee repeated, just for something to say.

"Well, I'm _fine_." Her tone was considerably less benevolent than before. "So you can clear the frak out before I get up and _make_ you get out."

This was the old Kara, and Lee wanted to grin, but he knew he couldn't without making her lose face. She wanted a challenge, was _expecting_ a challenge. "Oh yeah? And just how are you going to do that, with a busted knee?" he replied with a snort.

"I can and I will!" Kara struggled up again, fighting her body for every inch of leverage. She got halfway there, halfway before gravity overtook her and she tumbled back down, hitting the pillows with a quiet _whump_. Lee looked away, expecting another tirade — they'd been speaking softly up until now so as not to wake anybody, but he had a feeling that was about to change — and nothing came. Nothing came for such a long time that he finally had to look back at the bed, concern welling within him.

She stared determinedly at the ceiling, her face expressionless.

"Please go away?"

It was barely above a whisper, and with none of the annoyance present before. He sighed, knowing that he couldn't deny her this small piece of dignity. "I'm sorry. Good night, Starbuck."

He was halfway to the curtain opening when Kara spoke in that same quiet way. "Lee?"

"Yeah?"

"I — I didn't mean that, I just — it's been a long day and —"

"You're overwhelmed, I know," Lee nodded, turning to face her. "It's all right. I understand. We've all been there."

"Yeah," she echoed, but she was facing the wall again.

"Look, I — ah —" He drew up courage, knowing he might not get another opportunity. "It's good to have you back. We thought you were dead."

"Is that why you looked like a little lost dog when Cottle was taking me to sickbay?" Kara wisecracked.

"I — I did not!" Lee's voice rose to a loud whisper. "I just thought — like I said, we _all_ thought — you were gone. So I was glad to see you!"

"Glad enough that you'd give me a bath?" She winked.

He managed to keep his knees from going weak, but it was a close thing. "You were serious?"

"Of course! Gods, I stink. You'd stink too if you'd spent hours swimming in Raider guts."

"Right." Lee tucked his hands in his pockets; they seemed to be about four sizes too large right now. "Well —"

"You're up, I'm up. And lords only know the doc isn't going to take time out of his busy schedule. Besides, weren't you the guy who said I smell like a latrine?" She was smiling now, one of her big shit-eating grins, and he was forcibly reminded that he almost lost all of this, just a few short hours ago. He almost lost his opportunity. He almost lost the reason he came to sickbay in the middle of the night four hours before CAP.

"Kara, I—" The words stuck in his throat, and Lee had to swallow hard before continuing. "Are you _sure?_ "

"Would I have _asked_ if I wasn't?" She all but rolled her eyes. "Now get over here, before I change my mind."

Exactly the kind of encouragement his brain _didn't_ need. "But a minute ago you were telling me to get the hell out …"

"Ancient history," Kara smirked. "Or do you want me to do it again?"

"No, uh, that's okay."

Lee looked about for a basin and a sink, and to his logical brain's distress, found both. The soap was there too, sitting almost mockingly in its metal dish. Resignedly he sighed and flipped the faucet, hoping they wouldn't wake the other patients. Sickbay was mostly empty, true, but there was always the odd person who might complain. Besides, he felt almost positive that he was about to break approximately fourteen frat regs into tiny pieces. If Cottle came in …

"Warm or cold?" he barely managed to choke out.

"Warm please."

The basin filled in a distressingly short time and Lee set it awkwardly on the bedside table. He returned to the sink, picked up the soap dish and promptly dropped it, metal hitting deck with a bang like a gunshot. They both froze, hyper-aware of small sounds, of every creak and shiver and whisper of machines clicking.

"Clumsy ass," Kara muttered when they were sure no one was coming. "You're going to wake the whole godsdamned ship."

"I'm _so_ rry," Lee said crossly, wiping sweaty hands on his pants. "But do you even realize how many frakking regulations we're breaking right now? If Cottle finds out he'll throw us both in hack and my father will back him up!"

"Regulations, _regulations_." She waved a hand nonchalantly as though it was nothing to worry about. "Is that all you can come up with? Same old Lee, I swear to gods. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm _used_ to that."

"Well, _I'm_ not."

"Lords, Lee, if you're so worried about your precious _regulations_ , then forget it. Get your ass back to your rack and go to sleep like a good little daddy's boy. Just answer me one question: why the hell did you come in here in the first place?"

He felt his hackles rising, hot anger filling his veins like a drug, but he knew that in a twisted way, that was precisely what Kara wanted. He couldn't give it to her. "Don't," he gritted through clenched teeth. "Just — _leave it_."

"Whoa, it speaks." Her tone was still amused, and now Lee knew for sure she was goading him. "So, I'm supposed to leave it, says the almighty CAG. Leave it just like you did when you decided to come to sickbay instead of grab four extra hours of sleep, just to check on me? Hey pot, kettle's calling."

Why did she always manage to come up with the most irrefutable arguments? It wasn't fair, it really wasn't.

"Do you want this bath or not?" he growled.

"Geez, sorry. Remind me not to disturb the great hypocrite ever again."

That was it. He whirled around, nearly knocking the soap dish to the floor again, and leaned directly over her bed. "Godsdamn it, Kara, you _died_. You died, your ship went down and my father and I gave up on you. We didn't want to, but Laura Roslin got it through our heads how foolish we were being and forced us to abandon the search. And _I_ died. I felt like you'd taken a godsdamn part of me with you. You know when the last time I felt like that was? When Zak died. There's a part of me with him now, right there in his grave. But unlike Zak, you are actually still alive. So you'll forgive me for wanting to take advantage of that."

Even as he spat those last words at her Lee knew he'd gone too far, but damn it, she pushed him into it. Kara's face darkened until it was almost unreadable, and she narrowed her eyes dangerously. "So that's what this is about?" she hissed. "Zak? You're using me as a substitute for your brother?"

Immediately guilt lanced through him, sharp and instant. "Kara, no, that's not what I meant —"

"Because if that's what you're doing you can frakking forget it. I'm not Zak, I never will be and I do not need your pity or your charity. So you can just get the frak out right now, while you still can. _Sir_ ," she added as an acidic afterthought.

"I didn't _mean_ it. Godsdamnit, Kara …" He was tempted to kick something in annoyance. "Every time someone dies it's like this. But you, you are …" Lee groped for the words, for a way to summarize all she meant to him. _Different_ , _special_ and _amazing_ all sprang to mind, and he dismissed them immediately. "You're … you're _Starbuck_." _Weak. Oh, so weak._

"And you, Lee, are pathetic. Get a frakking life."

He wanted to snap that he _had_ one, that it was right in front of him, that she represented everything good in his existence, but he couldn't. He couldn't _say_ all of that. She wouldn't believe him, and anyway, she was too pissed off right now to see his point.

So he showed her instead.

Lee moved from where he had her pinned, his arms gripping the bed railings, and he crushed his lips to hers. It was abrupt and it was hard and it was fast and it surprised both of them, shockingly driving home the point. Kara was rigid under his touch, anger making her hard and inflexible, but he pressed on, furiously, almost savagely, and she began to yield. More than that, she was taking control, bringing one hand up to caress his cheek, almost pulling him down on top of her as they fought for dominance. He grabbed the rail to steady himself and that seemed to bring them both out of their reverie so that they pulled back, staring amazed into each other's eyes.

Kara was the first to speak. "Holy frak, Lee."

A hot flush was rising to his face again and he stumbled backwards, bashing into the bedside table. "I'm sorry," Lee gasped, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll just go …"

"No, don't." Her hazel eyes were shining. "Don't. After that I'd be crazy not to want to see how you do with the bath."

"Kara …" For the fiftieth time that night Lee wondered what he was doing there, whether they would actually see this through, what it'd mean for both of them. "I — I don't know if I can …" He had no idea where he was going with that sentence, exactly, but thoughts were whirling through his mind, foremost among them that he was being incredibly disloyal to his little brother, standing there trying to keep it down while talking to Zak's fiancée. After having just _kissed_ Zak's fiancée. What the hell had he been _thinking?_

" _Frak_ ," Lee muttered, turning away and running nervous hands through his hair. Damn it all, he wanted her. It was why he came down here in the first place, and he was only just starting to admit that to himself. "Frak, we're frakking frakked."

Kara laughed, and he could tell it would have been one of her usual bellows if some measure of silence were not required. "Impressive command of the language you've got there. I think the air might just have turned blue."

"Yeah, well." He'd only succeeded in making his hair point to four corners of the compass. "Gods, what are we _doing?_ "

"Being frak-ups?" she suggested. "That's nothing new for me, you know."

True enough. But Lee was _not_ used to this. He followed rules, obeyed regulations, and always did as his superiors instructed. But no regulation he'd ever encountered covered this particular situation. There was no chapter in the rulebook or simulation entitled What to Do if You Find Yourself Falling in Love with Your Brother's Fiancée. Lords, if only there were.

"Kara …" he started.

But she was looking at him like she'd never looked at him before, with the typical Starbuck smile on her face and a new gaze, a sort of pleading, in her eyes. And he knew he was frakked, had in fact been frakked from the moment he came in here, from the moment he decided to leave his rack and make his way down to sickbay.

She needed him.

She had never seemed to need anyone before. But she needed _Lee_ , now.

 _Frak it._

 _Frak regulations, and where we are, and my father and Cottle and all the rest. Frak everything._

Lee started towards the bed, stretching out his hand, nodding towards the bottoms of her shirts. She responded to the unspoken question and grabbed the hems, jerking them up and over her head. For a moment he could not stop staring, because she wasn't wearing a bra and he had never seen her like this, bared to him, nipples hardening in the slightly chilly air. A certain part of his anatomy started to return the salute, and still he looked. Looked at this part of her that was never intended for him, but that she was now baring for some reason known perhaps only to the gods.

"Eyes up here, soldier." Kara snapped her fingers and smirked as Lee jumped slightly, startled. "Though they _are_ impressive, aren't they?"

"Modest as usual." He swallowed and somehow his right hand made contact with the washcloth, dipped it into the basin and wrung it out. Lee felt almost as though he was moving in slow motion as he grasped her wrist, extended her arm, drifted the cloth up and down to wet the skin.

"Towel, Lee," said Kara, and belatedly he realized there was water dripping all over the sheet. He shook his head at his own stupidity and grabbed one from the bedside table, laying it gently over her lap.

And Lee washed her arms, slowly but surely, taking as much time as he could because he didn't want to think what would happen next, after he finished with that part of her. She provided the answer once again, however, and leant forward so he could repeat the procedure along her back. It was speckled with moles and small scars at whose origin he could not even guess. But she was beautiful. She was beautiful all the same.

"Mmm," Kara hummed, and he glanced at her to see she had closed her eyes and was breathing slowly, deeply, with pleasure. "Do you know how long it is since anyone's given me a massage?"

"People give you massages?"

"Ha, ha." She reached to smack him but missed as he executed a perfect dodge, accidentally spattering water over her face.

"Hey!" Lightning-fast, Kara dipped her fingers into the basin and flicked the droplets at him in revenge. Before long they were in the midst of a small water fight, Lee using the additional range provided by the washcloth to his advantage. This lasted until she somehow managed to grab hold of the cloth and tug until he nearly toppled onto her. It was only the bed rail that prevented Lee from slamming full-force into her injured knee.

As it was, he suddenly found himself in very close proximity to her chest. She stroked his hair like he was a puppy and grinned down at him, every inch of her smile daring him to do exactly what he wanted to do.

So, since this was apparently the night to throw away regulations, Lee did.

He moved just an inch closer. He took one hardened nipple into his mouth. And he sucked it.

The quiet moan that snaked from between her lips was almost orgasmic in intensity and it shot straight to his groin. Oh, he was in trouble.

"Gods, Lee, _more …_ "

He boosted himself back up and stared at the bed rail, frowning at the logistics. The only solution seemed to be to lower it, and after some febrile fumbling with the switch near the mattress, Lee managed it. He was about to crawl back into the bed when Kara issued another command, her voice as stern and authoritative as when she spoke to her nuggets.

"Pants. Off. Now."

He thought of the incongruity of _her_ giving _him_ orders when usually it was the other way around — or rather, he gave orders and just hoped she'd obey them — but Lee didn't bother to ponder it any further. Instead he stripped with military efficiency, briefs and all, until every last inch of him was standing straight and proud in front of her. Lee relished, just for a moment, the way her tongue darted swiftly and involuntarily out of her mouth, running over her lips in an undeniable sign of appreciation.

It was his turn to smirk; he had, after all, earned the right to be cocky. "Like what you see, Starbuck?"

No body part was ever sacred, of course, not in the bunkroom where unintentional drive-by glances were the norm. But this was far different. This time Kara drank him in with clear intent behind her eyes, and he let her. Wordlessly extending her hand — perhaps she didn't trust herself to speak — she beckoned him forward to climb onto the bed.

Lee took his time, because this wasn't just some ordinary quick-and-dirty frak. He didn't want the sex only to get off, although that would greatly contribute to his physical comfort level at this point. No, he wanted it because this was _Kara_ , who had been in and out of both his dreams and his nightmares for two years. This was Kara, whom he'd felt sure was lost to him. She _had_ been lost, barely a day before. And gods if that didn't bring a clench to his throat …

He settled himself astride her and she grinned, sliding downwards until Lee was nearly on top of her. "Gotta be quick, the doc'll be in soon," Kara whispered, her eyes alight. The idea seemed to excite her, but he could hardly think of anything more embarrassing, so he quickened his pace, leaning down to lave at her nipples, capturing her mouth again and again in a series of kisses, palming her breasts until she had to bite down on her lower lip to prevent the inevitable groans from snaking out and giving them away.

Kara moved her left leg to the side and arched against him, her pelvis just brushing his erection, and this time Lee was the one to stifle a moan. He decided enough was enough and in one sharp, quick thrust he'd filled her, slipped out and back in again. So _hot_ and _wet_ and _tight_ and _gods_ , he couldn't remember ever having felt anything like it before. Lee bent his head, burying it in her chest to camouflage his quickening breathing. At this rate he'd never be able to hold out, and he knew it.

But she seemed as ready as he was, and after more rapid thrusts her muscles suddenly fluttered around him and she arched again, arched and arrived with an almost inaudible cry.

An inaudible cry that was _his_ name.

" _Lee …_ "

And that was the last straw, hearing her say it that way, so vulnerable and openly and lovingly. It replayed in his mind on a loop as Lee gasped and shuddered softly in his own climax, as their arms went around each other and brushed the sweat off their bodies.

***

Back in the bunkroom, clean and dressed, Lee lay blissfully in bed, listening to the snoring around him, at once marveling and puzzling over his own courage.

He knew things had become more complicated. He also knew that he likely had no concept of exactly what this entailed, what they might go through, whether this even meant anything to Kara. But he didn't care. He had her back. The universe, or the Lords of Kobol, or whoever, had given him a warning.

He intended to heed it.


	2. Chapter 2

" _Gods_ , Lee —"

"Kara, no, wait —"

"Godsdamnit, _please_ —"

He pressed a hand to her chest, trying to still her, but she arched against his fingers with a moan and they slipped, brushing over a nipple. Her breath hitched sharply, irresistibly, and she snaked her own hand downwards over his chest, lower, further, until it reached the tent in his pants.

"Kara —"

"You want this too, Lee." She was unrepentant. "You want this, I want this and you've got an hour before CAP so come on, let's frak!"

Lee gritted out a sigh and, with tremendous effort moved to lie beside her. "Kara, something's going on. Something happened today between you and that Cylon and I want to know what the hell it is. You came back from that cell and I've never seen you looking the way you did. _Talk_ to me, dammit."

Her face turned to stone and she stilled, no longer moving, arching, gasping. "None of your business. Read the godsdamned report, Lee."

"A Cylon interrogation? Of course that's my frakking business!"

"Then read — the — report," Kara snapped.

"If you think that report is going to tell me everything I need to know about what happened, then you have no _idea_ , Kara. No _idea_."

" _Fine_." Her breath came heavily, angrily. "The Cylon Leoben resisted interrogation despite claiming that a nuclear bomb was present somewhere in the fleet; therefore the use of physical coercion was authorized as per protocol. Subject continued to prove uncooperative but did reveal that it had lied about the nuke. As it was no longer deemed to have any continued worth to the fleet, subject was executed by explosive decompression at approximately fifteen hundred hours. Execution witnessed by President Laura Roslin and myself. _Sir_."

"Frak it, Kara!" Lee was damned glad the hatch was dogged, because he felt almost sure they were about to have one of their patented arguments and he was sick and tired of others overhearing. "If this is going to work, we need to be honest with each other, and that means you telling me —"

" _What_ , Lee?" Kara snapped, rising up on her elbow. "And what the hell do you mean, _if this is going to work?_ What's 'this'?"

He paused, momentarily confused. "What are you talking about? This, us, together …"

"Lee, it's been three frakking weeks. And all we have done is get each other off. Hardly means we're _together_. Gods, we're not even allowed to be. Remember your precious regulations, Apollo? Remember how scared you were of breaking them? You're a good lay. We can't _be_ anything else."

Lee felt like she'd cracked him open. He swallowed, swallowed again, and still couldn't think of anything to say. How could she think this meant _nothing_ to him? How could this mean nothing to _her_ , after she'd kissed him so gently, caressed his face, called out his name as she came? He bit his lip, suddenly needing her desperately, but finding no way to steer the encounter back to the way he'd hoped it would go.

Kara was paying no attention, instead maneuvering herself out of the bunk, reaching for her cane. "Scuttlebutt around the deck is, Chief and Boomer were hauled in and questioned during the inquiry. It was supposed to be about the bomb but it turned out to be a frakking inquisition into their relationship. You want that to be us, Lee? You want to get hauled up in front of Hadrian and humiliated? Be my godsdamned guest, but leave me out of it."

He just continued to stare, to gaze at her as she stood awkwardly and hobbled towards her locker, still trying to put together an adequate response. "I —" Lee began, but his throat closed and he had to begin again. "Right. Right. You're right, I, um, I don't know what I was thinking."

"Yeah, well, at least you've got it now, right?" The locker squealed horribly as she opened it. "Godsdamn this thing needs — _frak!_ "

Lee whipped around in time to see her overbalance and stumble against the door, her injured knee slamming right into it. She gasped and gasped again, the colour draining from her face so fast he half-expected to see blood pooled at her feet. The cane fell to the floor and she began to follow, but not before he'd bounded across the room and caught her against his chest, his hands circling under her arms.

"Hey, hey, hey. Easy."

"Frak," Kara swore again, clutching at him in a death grip — which underscored, to Lee, exactly how much she was hurting. "Frakking hell, I told them to _fix_ that —"

He followed her gaze and saw a broken shelf, collapsed onto the one underneath it. She'd obviously been leaning on it when it gave way. "Something tells me repairs in the officers' bunkroom aren't very high priority right now."

"You think?" She winced as her right foot touched the metal deck. "Gods _damn_ it!"

"It's okay, it's okay — here." Lee draped her left arm around his shoulder and helped her to carefully hop back to the bunk. Kara's bare skin against his made him even hungrier for her but he said nothing, lying her slowly down and tucking in the offending leg. He bent, softly brushing some of the sweat from her forehead. "What can I do?"

Her teeth were still gritted fiercely. "Pills. Top shelf on the left."

Lee brought them quickly with some water and held her up while she shoved the white circles into her mouth and drank, drank until a little of her colour had started to return. Her breath, previously quick and desperate, began to slow slightly, and she leaned back against his arm. He was forcefully reminded of the incident in sickbay — except this time, Kara seemed to be accepting his help. For the moment.

"Hell of a way to spend your shift off," Kara muttered. "Helping a gimp like me."

"Kara, I don't mind," Lee said hurriedly.

" _I_ do." She rolled her eyes and handed back the glass. "I want to fly again, godsdamnit."

"You will," he promised.

"Yeah? That's what they told me when I frakked up my knee in pyramid. Never stepped on a court again."

"You played pyramid on a team?" Lee arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"Before I enlisted, I could've gone pro if it hadn't been for the injury."

He added that to the mental list of things he hadn't known about her, hadn't even begun to suspect. It was getting longer by the day.

"Look, Cottle told you you'd fly again, right?"

Kara scowled. "Yeah, _if_ I let it heal and keep up with my rehab."

"Well, you're going to do exactly as he tells you, then, aren't you?" Lee affixed her with his sternest I'm-the-CAG look.

Her face twisted and he was afraid he might have caused offense, but next second she was grinning widely and had burst out laughing. "Lee, you _know_ that look doesn't work on me!"

"It was worth a shot," he shrugged.

"Whatever." Kara maneuvered herself into a horizontal position. "So, hotshot, let's pick up where we left off. I didn't get naked for nothing and neither did you."

Lee sighed as he replaced the glass on the table. Their expectations were different, that much was clear, and in a way she was right: until the frat regs were repealed, if that _ever_ happened, he was permitted to treat Kara only as a quick lay, and nothing more. The trouble was that those regulations didn't take _feelings_ into account. They weren't supposed to, since in the military, feelings could get you killed. But what he felt for Kara — and it was foolish to deny that he felt _something_ — went far beyond either civil cordiality or simple physical attraction. It was complicated, and wrapped in several layers of guilt, but it was the need to love her and touch her and be there for her and with her, no matter what. He'd only just begun to realize this, over several weeks, and he found it difficult to put into words even in his own mind. But he couldn't imagine a life that she wasn't part of, and neither was he sure how he'd gone for two years without contacting her, speaking to her, seeing her. Oh, they still argued and fought and failed to see eye to eye, and Kara could infuriate him like no one else. She was prone to sulking and she would never, _ever_ talk about herself, except in rare moments like these. But that challenged him to see the best in her, and it made the more open moments all the better for their scarcity. He wished they could talk, _really_ talk, without any of the inhibitions and hang-ups they still seemed to have. But it had been mere weeks since he'd even acknowledged to himself that something deeper was going on, and so Lee supposed he should give it time. Give _her_ time.

Besides, the sex was _great_.

She grinned cheekily out at him and he hardened in record time, barely able to walk back over to the bunks. Seeing Kara in a position like that, spread out before him, was something to which he'd never expected to bear witness, and yet, here she was. Lee swallowed visibly, wrestling with himself, trying to decide if he should press the issue of the interrogated Cylon or simply give in to his baser instincts.

But he had left a very important weapon within her reach, and Kara took full advantage. He jumped as he felt her fingers ghosting up his thigh, finding the bulge at his crotch and pressing gently.

"Not fair, Kara," Lee mumbled, almost stumbling against the top bunk.

She arched an eyebrow. "Who said anything about _fair?_ "

"Yes, _fairness_ , Kara. There is such a concept. How silly of me to —" He interrupted himself with a grunt as her fingers closed around him, stroking up to the base of his cock and back down again. Somehow she had managed to unzip his pants and reach inside while he'd been talking, and again Lee paid the price for his inattention.

"Okay — _okay_ —" He was gripping the top bunk tightly now, knuckles white, feeling breathless. Her hand stilled immediately, though Kara continued to grin. "Let me just — just move over and make room or you could get more than you bargained for."

"Where's your stamina, Apollo?" she mocked, but wiggled to the side as he had requested.

After making sure the hatch was dogged (gods forbid anyone should walk in right now, though most pilots were either on CAP or in the rec room), Lee proceeded nonchalantly back across the room, to Kara's frustrated exhalation. He waited until she'd begun to roll her eyes skyward and then jumped carefully on top of her, carefully so as not to jar her knee. They wrestled playfully for a few moments, laughing and grinning like kids, until Kara pulled him down and kissed him, her fingers lightly caressing his cheeks. He responded immediately with a moan of longing as she trailed her hand down, down past his chest and towards his belt.

"Lee?"

He paused. "What?"

Kara snorted, the kind of snort that was inches from becoming a loud guffaw.

" _What?_ "

"Your fly is open."

He'd looked down before he could stop himself, and that time she really did laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth. Lee decided there was nothing he could do but go for broke and so he sat up to strip, awkward in the small bunk. "Whose fault do you suppose that is?" he whispered huskily afterwards, leaning down so that his breath tickled her neck.

Kara's pupils darkened with arousal and the tip of her tongue darted out to lave her lips once, a gesture he was beginning to adore. And, as though they had exchanged some secret signal, some form of permission, suddenly her hands were everywhere and Lee ground against her and her hips came up to meet him, urging him on, both lost in touch …

His last coherent thought as he slid inside of her was an echo of an earlier realization, a sort of guilty confirmation.

Yes, the sex was great.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is again mainly from Lee's perspective, and the dialogue at the end will be familiar (it's from "Colonial Day"). It might seem mainly like a bridge chapter, and it sort of is, but some important things happen which will set up events for future chapters.

They fell into a routine of sorts, a new definition of normalcy despite the end of the worlds. Of course, hundreds of other people were doing the precise same thing, and so Lee supposed he ought not to feel strange about just how frakked up _his_ new definition of normalcy had become. Somehow, it had grown to include him being commanded by his father, to him directing an entire air group, to flying daily CAPs and picking off the occasional Cylons that deigned to show up — they always did — only to return to his bunk exhausted and facing a mountain of paperwork taller than he was.

Oh, and he was frakking his little brother's fiancée. Another vaguely disturbing facet of what passed for normal nowadays.

Lee was good at responsibility; he always had been. And he got it all done, though he was hard-pressed to remember when he'd last pulled so many all-nighters. There was always Kara, however, and no matter how much she managed to infuriate him when they were on duty together, there was stability and comfort in knowing that she would nonetheless be there in the evening, that he could bury himself within her and rain kisses between her breasts and feel her soft caress on his back. Their relationship was brash, uncouth; everything he'd never expected a potential partnership to be. He found it intoxicating.

It was also time-consuming, and time was a commodity of which he had very little these days. The situation wouldn't get any better, either, with Colonial Day and the elections for Vice-President quickly approaching. Somehow, the job of arranging security for the politicians, including President Roslin, had fallen to him, and it was turning into an absolute nightmare. At least Kara was back on CAP rotation, her knee having healed. He had neither the desire nor the creativity to continue juggling flight rosters.

"Sir? Captain Adama, sir?"

Lee sighed and rubbed a hand uselessly over the knots in his neck, halting to allow Dee to catch up with him. He was tempted to simply continue down the hall and pretend he hadn't heard, but it would get back to him one way or another. No use postponing the inevitable. "Yes, Dee?"

"We've received several communications I thought would be of interest to you," she said earnestly, passing him a sheaf of paper. "One from President Roslin confirming the location of the Quorum meeting. She'd like you to speak with her as soon as possible regarding security protocols."

"Right." Idly he scanned the brief. "Wait a second — she wants to hold it on _Cloud Nine_?"

"That's what she said, sir; I'm only the messenger."

"Frak me." Lee could feel a tension headache beginning to pound a rhythm into his skull. "Does she _know_ how much of a security nightmare that'll be? Trees, elevated promontories, recessed hallway areas and at least five _dozen_ other places for a sniper to hide! Even with _three_ times the manpower I have I wouldn't be able to create an effective net! What is she _thinking?_ "

"I'm not sure, to be honest," Dee answered. "She seemed to believe it to be ideal given that the repairs have now been completed."

"Well, it isn't. I'll have to talk to her. What's this other one?" He turned his attention to the second sheet of paper, still fuming.

"Oh, that's a notice from the _Hitei Kan_ that their next shipment is going to be slightly delayed. I know you were scheduled to help with offloading it."

"New receipt date is tomorrow, oh-nine-hundred hours," Lee read. "Exactly when I'm on CAP. _Perfect_. I'll have to pull somebody off and totally rework the roster — why are they delayed, by the way?"

"The last Cylon attack damaged their shuttle bay," she explained. "A hatch door hadn't been secured properly before they jumped and it blew off. The bay was completely depressurized."

"It's exactly this kind of incompetence that makes it impossible for me to do my job," he muttered. "What's their payload?"

"Mostly food and medical supplies, I think."

"Wait, hold on." He skidded to a halt right in the middle of the corridor. "Dee, we need those supplies as soon as possible! Cottle's already on my ass about when the antibiotics and medicines are going to get here, he says he doesn't have enough for my pilots!"

"I'm sorry, sir." She shrugged sadly. "He'll have to wait until tomorrow. The shipments are on a rotation between vessels in the civilian fleet, and if we switch them up they could be deprived of necessary goods."

"But that means no one will get their preventive shots and I'll have to rejig the roster _again_ when they're rescheduled," Lee complained. " _Dammit!_ " He folded and unfolded the papers, wishing he could rip them up and have the problems vanish too. And Kara would be pissed. She was always so insistent about taking those shots on time — probably, he knew, because she hated being sick, but still — and odds were she wouldn't blame those actually responsible for the delay. She'd blame _him_. And they'd have another fight, and she'd storm off, and then they would have to waste even more time patching things up. He fought enough with her while they were both on duty that he had no desire to do so when they got off the clock. That time was supposed to belong to _them_ , alone.

Dee was watching him nervously, and Lee realized he'd been doing exactly what she'd asked him not to: shoot the messenger, and act like it was her fault.

"I'm … look, Dee, I'm sorry," he sighed, running a hand over his face. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry, it's just —"

"You've got a lot on your plate right now, and I understand," she smiled. "It's okay. For what it's worth, sir, I'm not sure why President Roslin wants _Cloud Nine_ either. Maybe for the photo-ops?"

"Maybe," Lee agreed. "Anyway, tell her I'll get back to her on that shortly. And tell the captain of the _Hitei Kan_ that it's all right, and I'll be there to meet his crew tomorrow as requested."

"Yes, sir." Dee turned back the way she'd come, and he hurried in the opposite direction towards his original destination.

***

"Gods, Lee, you've got bags under your eyes big enough to carry crap in."

Lee barely paused in the act of toweling off his hair. "Thank you for that fine and learned opinion, Dr. Thrace. Now, do you need something or did you just come in here to make a pest out of yourself?"

"I wanted to ask about flight evals, actually." Suddenly she was wrapped around him from behind, her voice tickling his ear. "You weren't in the bunkroom, so I thought I'd try here next."

"And what —" His breath caught as her fingers found his chest, pinching a nipple experimentally. "What does your current … _position_ have to do with flight evals, exactly?"

"Oh, come on, Lee, you're not actually trying to convince me you've never had sex and talked shop, are you? 'Cause you definitely seem the type."

He was half-hard already. _Dammit_. "Kara, I don't have —"

"Time, I know. _Nobody_ ever has time around here but that doesn't mean we don't get off, does it? Besides, you're late. I came in here an hour ago and thought you'd be off duty, but the workaholic strikes again. Who was holding you up this time, Tigh? That ass."

" _Kara!_ "

"What?"

"Do _not_ talk about a superior officer that way!" Lee hissed.

"Gonna throw me in hack, sir?" There was a definite smirk in her voice now.

"Just — _don't_ , okay?" He spun to face her, regretting it instantly as his towel came unfastened from around his waist and slowly slid to the floor.

Kara ran her tongue over her lips, an unconscious gesture Lee had grown to adore. "See, you _do_ want this!" she crowed triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"What I want is irrelevant right now, Kara," he insisted, starting to bend to pick it up. "I. Don't. Have. Time."

She snatched the towel away from his fingers and slung it over her shoulder, grinning and starting to back towards the row of stalls. "If you want it, come get it, Apollo."

"This isn't funny!" Lee made a grab for it but Kara darted away, laughing, keeping it just out of his reach. Some part of him was warning that he shouldn't rise to the bait, that this was just a stupid, silly game, but dammit, she always knew exactly which buttons to push. She could always get him, every single time.

"The towel of Apollo," Kara said reverently, holding it at arm's length and examining it as though it was some priceless artifact. "You know, this would probably fetch a fortune on the black market. I need a source of income; maybe I'll start auctioning off your personal effects."

"You _wouldn't!_ " he bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls.

"C'mon, Lee, it's _me_." She shot him a smirk, draping the towel over her shoulders.

There was nothing he could do but go with it. "Oh, you wanna play dirty, Starbuck? You wanna?"

Kara's eyes shone with mirth. "Bring it, ass!"

"All right, you asked for it. You _really_ asked for it!" He made to stride casually toward her, but at the last second lunged and caught her by the shoulders, pulling her forwards and crushing his lips to hers. Kara squeaked with surprise and laughed, responding enthusiastically … but not letting go of his towel.

"C'mon, Kara …" Lee gestured towards it.

"I don't think so, Apollo," Kara grinned, moving back slightly. "I've got a higher price than that and you know it."

" _Oh?_ " He arched an eyebrow.

She cleared her throat and in one smooth movement pulled both tanks up and over her head, revealing her chest to Lee's reluctant gaze. His body, which had just begun to cool, fired right back up again.

"Kara, we're in the frakking _head!_ " Lee hissed.

Kara pretended to gaze around. "Gee, thank you, Captain Obvious. Any other words of wisdom you'd like to impart?"

 _Frak_ it. He had flight rosters to prepare and security details to arrange and shipments to arrange and gods only _knew_ how many other problems just waiting to erupt, and he'd been hoping to grab just twenty minutes of rest before plunging back into the fray, but of course Kara — and his traitorous body, which seemed to be happily in league with her — had decided that time should be spent otherwise. This was _ridiculous_. And yet, with Colonial Day just two days away, it might be one of the last moments he would have with her as _them_ , before they would need to separate in order to honour the frat regs. Dammit, he _wasn't_ going to fall for this again. And yet …

"That hatch better be dogged and this place better be empty," Lee muttered.

Her smile was radiant. "It is."

She started to say something else, perhaps a request or a desire … but he barely heard her … and a moment later, neither of them cared.

***

Lee had been correct about one thing: the next days were as busy, if not busier, as he had predicted. He'd originally hoped to put Kara and himself together on security detail, if only because they did work well together as a team, but that had proved impossible once Gaius Baltar was named as the delegate on the Quorum for Caprica. Baltar demanded top-level security, and Lee knew that the only person he could trust with an assignment like that — besides himself — was the indomitable Starbuck. If he was honest, he wasn't even sure how Baltar had managed to win the prestigious political appointment, and he didn't much like the man. Oh, Dr. Baltar was supposed to be a genius and all, but the few times Lee had seen him aboard _Galactica_ , Baltar had been wandering the corridors talking to himself and staring at the bulkheads like he could see invisible people there. Did all geniuses behave so strangely? And besides that bizarre behaviour, there was a slimy quality about Baltar that never failed to put Lee off.

But the man needed security, and so it was Lee's responsibility to schedule it. One of the other reasons he'd paired Kara with Baltar, though he didn't want to admit it to himself, was the rumours he'd heard flying around. Gossip traveled fast, and if even half the stories were true, Gaius Baltar had so many notches on his bedpost that it was surprising the damn thing hadn't collapsed by now. If anyone could handle themselves around the scientist, Kara could, and Lee almost wanted him to make a pass at her just for the satisfaction of seeing her reaction. Oh, it would be _good_.

Or it would have if they'd actually been able to see each other. Lee was sure that if Baltar had put the moves on Kara, she wouldn't hesitate to regale her friend with the whole sorry tale at the end of the day. But as he had predicted, both were kept so busy with security minutiae that they barely saw each other except in an official capacity. And Lee was so focused on duty — the security protocols, the questioning of a man found to have smuggled a gun aboard _Cloud Nine_ , the investigation of that man's apparent suicide and the president's requests to find a link to Tom Zarek — that he doubted he would've had the energy that Kara typically required.

They weren't alone together in the same room in any case until the afternoon of Colonial Day. A banquet would be held that night in celebration of the occasion and of the new vice-president's election, and while Lee did not relish the festivities, he hoped that he might at least spend the night with Kara when it was over. A reward for their hard work of the past days. And perhaps a bit of selfish indulgence, too. He hadn't yet figured out in his own mind what Kara "was" to him — obviously she regarded this as simply a casual fling, but try as he might, Lee couldn't treat it with the same amount of nonchalance. He'd tried to brush it off, tried not to feel jealous when she'd made eyes at some of the younger Quorum delegates. That was just Kara. But damn it, there was something in the pit of his stomach that just kept gnawing away, preventing this encounter from turning as meaningless as she seemed to believe it was.

They needed to discuss their expectations again, and Lee knew it. The problem was, he had no idea how to do so without it turning into a huge argument, and without Kara throwing the frat regs in his face again.

 _An argument is not what I want right now_ , Lee thought as he shrugged back into his pants and stifled a yawn. The afternoon had been exhausting, with the security risks and the suicide and subsequent meetings with Roslin. What he wouldn't have given for a nap right now …

"I can't believe that guy was actually going to take out the President," Kara muttered as she emerged from the head wrapped in a towel. "I mean, frak, if I were gonna do something like that I'd find somewhere less conspicuous than a Quorum meeting."

"Well, maybe that wasn't his plan," Lee replied. "Maybe he really was just an innocent Colonial citizen wanting to watch our government in action, who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Oh, don't be naïve, Lee," she snapped. "You can't deny he was up to _something_. All the evidence is practically staring us in the godsdamned face!"

"No hard evidence," he pointed out. "And you know that's what Roslin will want. She said so herself."

"So what are we supposed to do, sit on our hands and watch her get killed?" demanded Kara.

Lee shook his head. "Zarek's too smart to take another shot at the President during the summit. If he wins the vote, he can take her out later when everyone's forgotten about Valance. Just bide his time to find a better opportunity."

She snorted. "That's _great_."

"Anyway, she says she's not gonna lose the vote," he shrugged.

"She says a lot of things."

Lee turned to hunt for his shirt, which had been carelessly tossed over his bunk, and gawked at Kara. "Don't you think you should wash that?" he asked incredulously, indicating the torn and stained set of tanks she was about to change into.

She blinked, looking momentarily puzzled. "I did."

It was his turn to snort. "Like when, a month ago?"

Kara turned slowly on the spot, facing him and glaring. "Do you have a problem with my hygiene? _Sir?_ "

Lee couldn't help grinning and leaning casually back against his locker. "You have hygiene?"

Instead of the smart rejoinder he expected, her brow furrowed and she simply pivoted away from him again, slipping on the tanks and rummaging in her locker. "I clean up good sometimes, okay?"

Still wanting the verbal joust, hoping to provoke her as she so often did him, Lee snickered. "Well, let me know when it's one of those times."

For once, Kara didn't answer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this chapter were heavily inspired by Alanis Morrisette's song [Front Row](http://www.lyrics007.com/Alanis%20Morissette%20Lyrics/Front%20Row%20Lyrics.html), despite the fact that this obviously isn't a songfic.

The bar on _Cloud Nine_ took Lee's breath away. He was almost getting used to being astonished by now, surrounded as he had been by jaw-dropping opulence ever since this particular mission began, but the bar … the bar was something else entirely.

In another life, before the end of the worlds, he'd always dreamed of traveling to the far reaches of Caprica — or perhaps even another of the Twelve Colonies; he wasn't going to be picky — and opening a bar somewhere, living under an assumed name. He knew the owners of bars must hear all kinds of interesting stuff, and meet up with some intriguing people. And he wanted to be one of those owners. Lee wanted to live in a world where his last name, and the words "duty," "responsibility," and "expectations" were just that: words. He grew tired of everything depending on him, of people constantly looking to him to figure out what should be done, and lately, of those godsdamned frat regs. Having to be Lee Adama was exhausting. But having to be Lee Adama in this new world, this world where he served under his father's command and was charged with protecting what was almost certainly the last of human civilization — that was a responsibility for which he felt woefully underprepared. He doubted that _anything_ could have properly prepared him for the situation in which he found himself.

But he liked this bar. And if things had been different, if he'd been a different person with different and more disposable obligations, Lee knew he would've made a play for this place. Glass everywhere, gold accents, a shiny bar top … perhaps a little too ostentatious for his taste, but _Cloud Nine_ 's bar had personality. That was something not every place possessed.

Lee headed towards the bar, scanning the crowd for Kara as he went. She didn't seem to be on any of the bar stools, nor was she mingling with the small clusters of people standing and talking. She was missing, too, from the dance floor and from the dining tables.

He blinked, furrowing his brow. Was it possible that she had decided not to come? Had his stupid remark about her hygiene really put her off? Or was her knee bothering her again? Even though she'd been back on patrols for a couple of weeks now, he'd still observed her taking the occasional painkiller. But as far as Lee knew, dancing wasn't required at this event — you could if you wanted to, but there were just as many people sitting and eating. Couldn't she have done that? And even though he hadn't said it outright, he'd been careful to drop hints over the last few days that he would prefer to spend Colonial Day with her. Maybe he hadn't been clear enough.

She might just be planning to show up later. Deciding that had to be it, Lee stopped a few feet short of the bar, his eye suddenly caught by a woman in a blue dress astride one of the bar stools. He racked his brain, trying to remember if he'd seen her before — she _looked_ familiar, but with her back to him it was hard to tell. Anyway, she was pretty. _Beautiful_ , actually. The way her hair fell just so above her shoulders … teased up lightly, though he imagined it would feel soft under his fingers … the skin of her back just visible beneath the straps of her gown and the languid movement of her arm as she reached for her drink …

Lee wished now more than ever that Kara was here, so he could take her in his arms and dance with her and forget about this stranger, to whom he was suddenly all too attracted. His mind was telling him to back away, to forget this, to move to the other end and order a drink and pretend he'd been there all along, but the rest of him had other ideas, and his feet remained firmly rooted to the floor. He was staring — and oh _frak_ this was wrong — but he couldn't help it.

In one smooth motion the woman turned, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face, and raised her glass casually to her lips. Almost as an afterthought, she spoke.

"Hi, Lee."

Wait, how did she know his name? Lee felt sure he'd never seen her before, unless … _unless_ …

His mouth dropped unabashedly open. Calmly, Kara sipped her drink, clearly waiting for him to say something.

"Uh," Lee stammered, "uh, so, um, that bum knee of yours is looking … pretty good. And the other one — isn't so bad either."

She snickered and rolled her eyes. "Lee, if you wanna ask me to dance, just ask."

"You wanna dance?" he parroted.

"Me in a dress is a once in a lifetime opportunity," Kara told him, plunking her glass back down on the bar top. "Take advantage of it, Apollo."

They glided to the dance floor together, fitting against each other as perfectly as though their individual selves had been made for that purpose. Her hand in his had suddenly become Lee's world, and he could remember exactly where and how many times that hand had touched him … the calluses on Kara's fingers from working with tools and clutching the stick during combat landings, soft on his body … the warmth exuded by her skin … the way her eyes would cloud with arousal and, he thought, _love_ after they had been kissing for awhile. In the last weeks he had memorized her body, and he thought he knew every inch of her — but Lee knew he hadn't even begun to discover the person beneath her exterior.

For now, her attention seemed to be riveted entirely on him. Kara tightened her arm around Lee's shoulder and squeezed his hand, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips. In moments like this Lee could almost forget that they shared such a tumultuous relationship, that for every moment of happiness there were two in which they yelled at each other so loudly the whole ship probably heard it. What was Kara, to him? Just a frak buddy? A friend with "benefits"? His girlfriend? His lover? Something else?

There was a part of him that still hadn't forgotten she'd belonged to Zak, too.

But Zak was gone now.

And why the hell was he thinking about all of this now, anyway? Why did he have to decide _tonight?_ Why couldn't he just enjoy being with her, take this moment for what it was: a gift?

After all, ten minutes ago Lee had been afraid she wouldn't even show up.

Kara had, and maybe — just maybe — that dress was for him.

A slower, more romantic song began to play, and unconsciously he reached to pull her closer, closer, until both his arms were wrapped fully around her. Kara didn't seem to object, leaning into him, her hands touching his shoulders. She tipped her head forward until it was resting just under his chin. As they moved past the bar, Lee realized that they were suddenly in quite close proximity to his father, their commander, who could with a glance decide to veto such close fraternization … and simultaneously he realized that he didn't care. Dad had always had somewhat of a blind spot when it came to Kara. He'd taken her under his wing after Zak's death, offered her a position on the _Galactica_ over and above many other qualified candidates. William Adama had been just as frightened and upset as his son when Kara had crashed on the desert moon, though of course he would never admit it to Lee or anyone else. But his actions had spoken for themselves. And Lee felt sure that as long as his father could see that Kara was happy — which she certainly seemed to be — he would let it go.

Lee was not, however, so certain about Tigh or his fellow pilots, and that explained the slight flicker of nervousness in his stomach.

Kara sighed, a soft little noise of contentment, and he leaned down slightly to nuzzle her. _Face it, Adama_ , Lee thought to himself, _you never had a frakkin' chance_. Not when she acted like that. Not when Zak had fallen so hard so fast for her. Lee could see why, now — Kara could infuriate, but she could also be extraordinarily tender, and while he knew she'd loved Zak, there was so much about her that seemed to directly complement Lee.

Another song started, this one a bit faster, but neither Lee nor Kara altered their pace. He took a deep breath, telling himself to just go with whatever came out of his mouth, no matter the consequences. It would be honest, and that was important.

"I love you," Lee whispered, close to her ear.

She seemed to tense, just for a moment, but before he could ask her if anything was wrong, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, may I cut in?"

 _Baltar_. Lee ground his teeth. Of all times, why _now?_ Couldn't the man see that Kara was occupied, that he was waiting for her response to an important declaration? Well, of course the scientist wouldn't have heard him say that, but still. He should have _known_ , dammit. When a couple was _this_ close together, dancing the way they had been, didn't simple, common _decency_ dictate that they should be left alone?

Still, if he had previously wished for an opportunity to see Kara take Baltar to task, perhaps that opportunity had finally arrived. This should be good.

"Of course, Dr. Baltar. It would be my pleasure."

Lee started. That cordial — even _friendly_ — tone couldn't have come from _Starbuck_ , could it? She was supposed to decline, to make a smart remark, perhaps even to punch him! Well, okay, maybe not _punch_ the _Vice-President_ , but … this just didn't make sense.

" _Kara?_ " he croaked.

"Chill, Apollo." She was already stepping around him, accepting Baltar's outstretched hand. "What the hell are you, my keeper? It's just one dance."

 _But I just told you I love you! Doesn't that count for something?_ "I — uh — I guess —"

"I'll meet you at the bar after, okay? First round's on me," Kara interrupted his stammering smoothly.

"Right," Lee mumbled. "Whatever you say."

And she was gone, whirled away barely a moment after he'd finished speaking. Lee stood bereft for a moment, wondering how one day Kara could complain non-stop about what an arrogant bastard Gaius Baltar was, and the next be swept off her feet by that very man. Was she playacting, trying to be polite to a newly-elected official? But Kara didn't playact. _Starbuck_ didn't playact. She didn't keep her thoughts to herself, and she scoffed at people with too much of what she called "charm." There was no way. _No way_ …

Perhaps that was the most uncomfortable thing of all — that Lee couldn't fathom a reason, not one single reason, why Kara would act the way she just had. Unless she needed time to absorb what he'd told her? But for gods' sake, if that were the case, where did she think their relationship had been headed? Did she truly believe it unfathomable that feelings of friendship — and a physical element that was nothing to scoff at — could lead to something more?

But she had to. He _loved_ her. The moment in which he'd told her that was as much about telling himself as it had been about her. Kara wasn't stupid. Surely she'd realize this. He just couldn't understand why dancing with Baltar would help that realization along.

Maybe she really was just being polite.

Lee sighed, and turned to get himself a drink.

***

 _She didn't care._

No, she couldn't _care, not when he had her like this … not when he was kissing her and pressing her into the bed, her fists wadding in the cool sheets, her toes curling around his legs. She could forget how they fought, could forget all his little habits that irritated her to no end … because he was_ Lee _, and somehow she had fallen into this much more deeply and quickly than she had ever thought she would._

Kara could picture his face even with her eyes closed, and it was this she did now as fingers teased over her breasts, tracing circles around her nipples as she writhed, on the point of begging. But she would not beg; she never begged, and that was a point of some significant pride.

She wriggled against him, just a little. Unsurprisingly he took that as permission to fill her, delightfully, and she arched up against him, letting the moan filter from her throat. Usually Kara was noisy during sex — she considered that part of her charm — but when she was with Lee she'd found that it was better to keep silent, if only to hear the noises he _made. He didn't shout (gods no; he was too modest for that) but rather grunted, delicious little sounds that never failed to get her going. Zero to sixty in five seconds. And he was doing that now, oh gods_ yes _, on each thrust … she was far closer than she'd thought, and Kara allowed herself to be carried along, barreling towards her climax at a much faster rate than part of her wanted._

Frak, he could turn her on.

One final grunt — he was close too — and she'd had it. Completely gone, over the edge, lost. Her hips rose off the bed again and she breathed a gasp, not bothering to stifle the name on her lips …

"Lee … _oh Lee_ …"

… and he stopped dead.

Kara's eyes flew open, intending to ask what was wrong, feeling unexpectedly tender.

It was then that she realized she'd called Lee's name … while _Gaius_ was atop her, inside her.

She swallowed.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to be like this, but _godsdamnit_ …

And the night was flooding back, playing before her eyes like a gun camera's filmstrip.

"I — I —" Kara stuttered out.

Gaius wasn't hesitating to keep the wounded expression off his face, like she'd grievously offended him. Well, of course she had: calling out one man's name while sleeping with another had to be one of the highest forms of offense. But Kara was surprised to discover that she didn't feel any sympathy for him. She didn't particularly feel any sympathy for _anyone_ right now. Not Gaius, not Lee, and most certainly not herself.

Kara Thrace was a frakking coward.

"I — I have to go," she blurted, already pushing him away, frantically tugging down her dress, feeling tears rush to her eyes.

 _I will not cry in front of Gaius Baltar._

 _I will not. IwillnotIwillnotIwillnot._

 _Why the frak am I_ crying _, anyway?_

"Go?" Gaius looked puzzled. "But … but I thought …"

"You thought wrong," Kara snapped, and in one smooth motion she slid off the bed, slipped on her shoes and marched to the hatch. Her knee ached painfully as she went, a reminder of the fact that she should probably not have chosen high heels, and she stumbled a little.

 _Please, Lords, don't let him notice._

He hadn't. Her last view of the Vice-President of the Colonies came as she spun to close the door. He was staring at the wall, looking vaguely disturbed.

 _I frakked the Vice-President. I frakked him because I'm a godsdamned coward._

She sniffed back a sob; thankfully the corridor was empty. _Galactica_ was mostly deserted, its crew celebrating Colonial Day, at this time of night probably sleeping off their ambrosia and smokes. Kara should have been doing exactly that, and she should've been doing it with Lee. But instead she'd just left Gaius Baltar's room and she was leaning against the wall, trying not to lose it completely.

 _Starbuck, get a hold of yourself, for frak's sake!_

The words buoyed her and she set off, limping up a short flight of stairs, leaning against a wall again, contemplating ditching the heels completely. It'd be a long way back to the pilots' bunkroom and she couldn't picture walking that distance like this. But neither could she picture walking it in bare feet.

 _"You could be better, but you don't want to be. Know why? Because you're a coward. That's all you've ever been and that's all you'll ever be. Lazy bitch. You've never tried. You've never even wanted to try. You're a frakking waste of space."_

"Shut up," she whispered.

 _"You'll frak anybody that moves, too. I can't believe I've got such a slut for a daughter. And it'll get back to you. If you think gossip doesn't travel fast in the military then you're dead wrong. I had my old admiral over here the other day and the stories he told me would curl your hair."_

" _Shut up, Momma!_ " Kara bellowed it down the corridor this time, almost not caring who heard. She began to walk, slow at first, then faster, almost jogging, all thoughts of throwing away the heels having been forgotten. The knee barked at her with every step but she ignored it. Pain kept her focus, kept her thoughts centred. She needed that now.

She needed that now because she didn't know what the hell she was going to do.

Kara met nearly no one on the walk back to the bunkroom, and the few she did pass were not brave enough to question Starbuck on her red eyes and distress. They valued their lives. She was grateful that her reputation preceded her and almost certain that no one would think of this incident the next time they saw her. Or if they did, they'd keep their mouths shut.

Her knee felt ragged by the time the bunkroom hatch swung open. She was tempted to simply collapse in her rack fully-clothed, but that wouldn't work. Not with this godsdamned party costume. Not with the pain. Pain was good for walking, but all it would do now was keep her awake and she wanted nothing more than to collapse, forget this whole frakking day had ever happened.

She tugged open her locker, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as she remembered … Lee had held her here, had shushed her softly and gently the way a lover would. He'd helped her back to her bunk. He'd fetched her a glass of water for the pills.

 _"I love you."_

Kara grappled with the zipper in back of her dress. Sharon had helped her put it on, but she didn't need to look at the racks to know her friend was deeply asleep now. Why did they make these things so complicated to put on and take off anyway? No wonder she never wore one. Tonight had been a special occasion.

 _I love you._

There were two pills left, Kara remembered as blue fabric slithered to the deck. Perfect. One to knock her out, one to save for later. She swallowed it dry, wincing at the bitter aftertaste, and slipped with difficulty into a sports bra and her sweats. Her knee was locked up now, refusing even to bend, and hobbling over to her rack didn't make it any easier.

Half of her hoped she'd find Lee there, his arms open, waiting.

But there was no way. Not after what she'd done.

 _I love you …_

She'd run. Run because she was a frakking coward. Run because he was too good for her. Run because no matter who she pretended to be, it would never be quite enough. Run to save his life. He was an Adama, and she, a screw-up.

Kara wouldn't let another Adama man die because of her.

A new rhythm began to pound through her blood, mingling with the drugs. An opposing cry to the one currently echoing through her mind, the one that spoke in _his_ voice.

 _I love you, but I can never have you._


	5. Chapter 5

_"Kara, I forgive you."_

It was what she most wanted, to hear those words from him, but she couldn't believe he'd actually just said them. How could he forgive her, after what she'd done to him? To them? _He'd told her he loved her, and her response was to fall into the arms of another man. She was scared, and she was doing it to protect him, but … he would never understand those reasons._

"How can you?" Her voice sounded hollow, dead.

"I do." Lee sat on the edge of her bunk, one hand moving softly up her leg. "That's what love is. Even when the other person fraks up, you still forgive them and you still love them. You made a mistake, that's all. Everybody makes mistakes."

Maybe, but she was used to her mistakes being punished. She had learned as a very young child that no misdemeanor passed without consequence. A broken vase meant a sharp slap, perhaps a series of them if she was unlucky. A bad grade at school might earn her a weekend locked in the closet. Disrespect and talking back were even more serious offenses, the discipline for which was her hand being slammed in her mother's bedroom door. She could remember the conversation as Momma drove her to the hospital, the entreaties to say that she had tripped, banged into a wall, which would also explain the black eye.

"You're accident-prone," her mother would say. "You're always falling down and hurting yourself. Momma loves you and she would never do anything to harm you, that's what you tell those people. And stop that crying or I'll really give you something to cry about."

Kara jerked herself back to the present, her eyes meeting Lee's. She'd told him already of the biggest mistake she'd made, the mistake that had cost his brother's life. She had been punished for that too, but by the gods instead of by her mother. The Lords took Zak, and they took him because of her. Deep down Kara understood this truth, though she tried to pretend most of the time that it was not the case.

Lee had forgiven her for that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He leaned closer, and his fingers caressed her cheek this time. "I love you," Lee repeated, in the same low and gentle tone he'd used when they were dancing together.

"I love you." It was barely audible, but Kara knew he'd understood by the light that flicked on behind his eyes.

Lee traced the shell of her ear, softly, slowly, and her breath caught as he enfolded her in his arms. He reminded her so much of Zak — gods, he even smelled _like Zak — but he was not, and she understood that. He was Lee, and she loved him, not better or worse, just different._

Kara tried to make more words of reconciliation rush up to her mouth, tried to make her mind obey, but her tongue felt thick in her mouth and she couldn't … not quite, not yet … and it didn't seem to be what Lee was expecting, anyway. He simply continued to hold her, his heart beating a steady rhythm against her cheek, and she relaxed.

It was going to be okay.

"Hey, yo! God!"

"I — I don't think she's getting up, Kat."

"Well she's gonna have to or Gaeta's morning breath'll knock her silly anyway. Hey! Starbuck!"

"Get going, I'll get her up."

"Yeah, right, Hot Dog, you just wanna sit here and whack off."

"Shut up, I'll do it!"

"Whatever, it's your funeral." A sharp smack, flesh hitting flesh, and the thunk of a hatch opening and closing.

"Hey, God! It's time to get up!"

She pulled herself back to consciousness slowly, wincing as a vicious headache made itself quickly known. _What the hell is Hot Dog doing here?_ Usually Lee woke her up and they went running together, he singing those horrible Academy songs …

Oh.

Lee.

 _Frak._

Kara winced again, but not from the headache this time. She'd entertained the vague notion that somehow, in some way, his forgiving her might be reality … maybe he snuck in after she'd gone to bed, woke her up, told her it wasn't her fault … maybe.

Maybe, because the alternative did not merit consideration.

" _God!_ "

"Frak off, Hot Dog," she murmured without opening her eyes. _Stab_ went the headache.

"Whoa, it speaks!"

"I _said_ frak off!" Kara bolted upright, almost hitting her head on the rack above, and whirled to face him. The room spun, tilting on its axis, and three Costanzas suddenly materialized before her eyes. "Frak me …"

"'Preciate the offer, Starbuck, but we're gonna be late. Can I take a raincheck on that?"

"Shit, just —" She held up her hand, firmly closing her eyes again, willing her stomach to quit revolving along with the bunkroom. Gods, if she lost her lunch in here, _now_ … "Just — frak. _Frak_. Hot Dog, have you — have you seen Captain Adama anywhere?"

Where had _that_ come from? Kara didn't know, and by the look on Brendan's face, he had no idea either. "Uh — last I heard he came over on an early-morning Raptor from _Cloud Nine_. Must've booked a room there or something. Why?"

Lee had booked a _room?_ Oh, frak.

"No reason." She slowly opened her eyes again, and this time everything stayed where it was supposed to. "Just forget it, okay? Forget I said anything."

Hot Dog continued to look mystified as Kara made her way over to her locker for a towel and fresh tanks. "You guys didn't, you know, _do_ anything last night, did you? Because there's a pool …" He trailed off at the look on his flight instructor's face.

"Save it," Kara hissed, leaning close to his face. "And if you value your balls at all you will keep your frakking mouth shut, do you understand me?"

"S-sure. Yes. Absolutely," he stammered.

"Yes, what?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"That's better." She spun for the head, holding herself together, determined not to do or say anything else possibly incriminating. If the nuggets really did have a pool … well, that was just frakkin' rude. What kind of a military operation had they become that it was now considered fun to bet on the personal lives of your superior officers?

Kara decided she was probably better off not knowing.

And she refused to let the tears come. Not until she was alone, in the shower, with the spray pounding down on her head.

***

Kara showered, dressed and breakfasted without seeing Lee, and by the time she was finished and on her way to the hangar deck, she had decided she should be grateful. After all, hadn't she run for a reason? Hadn't she wanted to protect him, to sever the relationship at its roots before it blossomed into something neither of them could control? Part of her wished she could explain her reasoning, explain why her emotions were all wrapped up in Zak, but she still doubted Lee would understand. Though she'd given him hints … particularly just after the first Cylon attack.

 _I passed him because he … because I felt something and I let it get in the way of doing my job._

Kara couldn't make that same mistake. She'd be _damned_ if she made that same mistake. Much as Lee might not want to admit it, the fraternization regulations existed for a reason and a frakking good one too. They existed to prevent flight instructors from getting involved with their nuggets. They existed to prevent CAGs from getting involved with their best pilots. They existed to prevent bias, and the loss of innocent lives. That had mattered even before the Twelve Colonies' destruction. It mattered even more now.

So why was it so hard to truly, honestly believe that?

Oh, her logical mind understood. But then, her logical mind understood a hell of a lot. It understood that she should have put the brakes on the very first night Lee showed up in sickbay. She shouldn't have allowed what they'd had to continue. Even the sex was too much, because there was something about Adama men … something that Kara couldn't turn away from even if she tried. She should have realized that getting involved with Lee on more than a friendly level was the kiss of death, literally.

For him. Not for her.

And she cared about him too much to allow that to happen.

But there was something about Lee — why did he have to be so … so … (she spun her hand in midair, looking for the right word) … so … _so?_ Blue eyes, that laugh of his, the perfect smile he'd flash her, hell, even the soft sounds of need he made when he was buried deep inside her. Being with Lee was easy and difficult at the same time. They fought as often as they got along. But like Zak … so much like Zak … she often got the feeling that Lee was challenging her to be better, pushing her to be an ameliorated version of herself. Kara was never sure whether this other version, the one he seemed to see, actually existed.

And now, she had disappointed him terribly. She felt almost certain this was the case. But that was better for him. He'd be safe.

He'd be _alive_.

"Morning, Starbuck!" The Chief's cheerful tone jolted Kara out of her daydreams. "Back to work on old Betsy here?"

"Betsy?" Kara blinked at the Raider. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Yeah, you said she was a she, so … the deck crew figured she'd need a name," Tyrol shrugged.

"I don't know," Kara murmured, running her hand vaguely over the Raider's wing. "Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe he's a he."

"Whatever you say, I guess. What are we working on today?"

"Gotta prep him for the in-flight tests," she replied, pulling on a coverall. "So autopilot and guidance systems would be a good first start."

"You got it, sir," answered Tyrol, bustling off for the equipment.

Two hours later Kara was funneling ammunition into the Raider, crossing her fingers that she was putting it in the right place. It was hard to tell with all the goop and stringy ligaments in there whether there _was_ an appropriate place, but she couldn't rely on the ammo it had been equipped with all the time, especially if they were going to treat the ship as a legitimate military asset.

"Going hunting?" asked a familiar voice right behind her.

 _Frak._

Kara gritted her teeth and turned. _Be calm, be detached, act like nothing happened_. "I'm adding a gunnery run to the jump test tomorrow," she explained. "See if our boy here can shoot anything with our ammo."

"So it's a boy now," Lee said. Crossed his arms.

 _A bad sign_.

"Changed my mind," she shrugged.

"You ever wonder why everyone calls it a she but to you it's a he?" he asked.

Kara clicked the last shot into place and reached for her clipboard, circling to the other side. "It's fascinating, Lee. You should write a paper."

"Well, that's not really my scene," he shot back, and from his tone she could tell he'd clenched his teeth. "I'm not as smart as, say, oh, Dr. Baltar. How is the Vice-President, by the way?"

 _Frakfrakfrakfr_ — "I don't know. Haven't seen him."

"So he's a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy, I guess," Lee snapped.

 _Don't. Turn._ "I guess."

"Ships that just pass in the night."

"Yup," Kara said, adding the ammunition belt to the list of equipment they'd installed in the Raider.

"Didn't mean a thing?" demanded Lee.

"Nope."

"Just bored, something to do." He started to pace, his boots banging loudly on the hangar deck's floor. "So frakking the Vice-President of the Colonies just seemed like a great way to waste some time."

She spun, feeling anger start its slow burn through her stomach. "You want something from me?" Kara snapped.

"Not a thing," said Lee's voice. _Everything_ , said his face.

"'Cause I don't owe you anything," she informed him.

"Oh, you don't, don't you?" He leaned in close, his eyes inches from hers. "So are you trying to tell me that the last month and a half means nothing to you? Are you trying to say that all those times when you climbed into my rack or I climbed into yours, or when you cornered me in the head and _yelled_ my name when you came, those meant nothing? Those meant as much as running off and jumping in bed with Gaius Baltar?"

"Your _point_ , Lee?" Kara met his gaze with daggers of her own.

"I am _not_ just another notch on your bedpost, Kara," Lee hissed. " _I told you I love you!_ "

Fear mingled with the anger now, the same fear that had gripped her as they danced together, and she stepped involuntarily back. "Oh, sure, and you think that gives you some kind of frakking claim on me, Apollo?" she shot back, clamping Starbuck in place. "Well, I have news for you: we are not frakking married and until that happens — which it won't, by the way — I can go off and 'jump in bed' with whoever I damn well please. You do not own me, I am _not_ your property, so stop acting like it!"

"Oh for frak's sake, is _that_ what you think I'm saying?"

"That's sure as hell what it's sounding like!"

She thought she saw a flash of vulnerability, an aura of real hurt, before Lee's face transformed into a hard mask. "Then I guess we don't know each other as well as I thought we did. I'm just a CAG. And you're just a pilot."

"Right," Kara barked.

"A pilot who can't keep her pants on," he accused.

Something like a gasp rose in her throat, and she had to work to control herself. "Right."

"Did you do this to him, too?" Lee said quietly.

It was Kara's turn to advance on him, her anger flaring again. "What the hell are you talking about, Apollo?"

"Zak. My brother." A muscle was going in his jaw. "The first time he told you he loved you, did you smile at him and run away and go frak somebody else? Because if you did —"

She lashed out almost before she fully thought it through, her fist flying from her side and directly at Lee, no purpose in her mind except to hit him and keep on hitting him until he shut the hell up and hurt as much as she did, to cause him as much pain as he had just dealt to her, to silence him, to stop him, to —

The punch connected just under his left eye and before Kara could draw another breath his knuckles were coming right back at her and then they hit, blossoming pain from her right cheek. She snapped back, stumbling against the equipment table, her hand pressed to her face. The hurt made her focus, made her forget for just an instant what they'd been fighting about, and then she remembered seconds later as her eyes filled involuntarily with tears. Her breath came hard and fast and it too was painful, a knife through her chest. He'd hit her.

He'd _hit_ her.

Was this really what severing her ties with Lee Adama was going to be like?

But Kara knew she couldn't let herself soften. She couldn't waver, couldn't change her mind at the last second. She had to keep this up. And she was _Starbuck_ for frak's sake. There was nothing to be done but snatch that knife and twist it deeper, twist it into _his_ flesh this time, the way he'd just done to her.

"Why'd you do it, Kara?" Lee whispered. "Just tell me why."

Kara snatched the clipboard and snapped shut her pen. "Because I'm a screw-up, Lee. Try and keep that in mind."

 _Walk away. Just walk away._

The other side of the hangar deck would do nicely. But in reality there was no place she could run, no part of this ship where he'd be safe from her.

 _Twist the knife._

"And by the way? I didn't run off on Zak when he told me. Because I actually loved _him_ back."

Kara ran.


	6. Chapter 6

The moment hung in the air.

It came to opposite sides of the cosmos, and it came in a different form for each of the two people who experienced it.

For Kara, it was Helo and Sharon. Sharon and Helo. One person she had never expected to see again, and the other whom she saw every day, so that Boomer could not _possibly_ be on Caprica at the same time that she was on _Galactica_. And Karl — Karl had been hoodwinked somehow, he _must_ have been, hoodwinked by this _thing_ into thinking that he loved it. Into thinking that it was carrying his child. How the hell could _that_ be possible? Cylons didn't get pregnant, not even the human models. It was nauseating enough to think of her friend inside this … machine, frakking it, being fed its lies. How the hell had he believed it? Was he really that damn _stupid?_ Oh gods, was _Kara_ , to even consider the possibility that Helo was telling the truth? No, no, she wanted to kill it she wanted to shoot it she wanted to see it bleed, now, now, _now_ , and she would scream and she wouldn't _stop_ screaming —

She had run away because she wanted to, because the president offered her an opportunity and Kara figured she would have been a fool not to take it. Especially after the Old Man … especially after Adama had lied, lied to her and the whole godsdamned fleet. And because of Lee. Because she never wanted to see Lee's face again, not now, not ever.

And now — what the hell had it gotten her? Some dusty old relic and the knowledge that one of her friends was frakking a Cylon and the other _was_ a frakking Cylon.

Kara screamed. It was her apocalypse. It was the destruction of everything she'd thought she understood.

She couldn't have known that the fates had planned something similar for Lee. His was different. Two bullets, one through the spleen, one just nicking the aorta, and his father was thrown violently back onto the command table, drowning in his own blood, unconscious before he hit. Lee was deaf to everything, including the sound of his own voice, as he screamed and shoved Tigh aside. Tigh, to whose head he'd held a gun on a matter of principle. Tigh, who was now doing his best to keep William Adama's life from draining out onto the table, as chaos erupted around them. Shock gutpunched Lee over and over again as he struggled to convince himself that this must be a nightmare he needed to wake from. Boomer couldn't have — she couldn't have — not after the success of the mission — she couldn't be — but she must be; the Marines were subduing her as she asked over and over again what had happened. How could she not know? How could she not understand? But there was no time to think on that, when seconds seemed to draw into hours and the medics — where in the hell were the _medics?_ Lee was about to yell the question when the clatter of a stretcher announced itself and several pairs of hands wrenched him violently away, subduing him too, but he was not going to go without a fight. He was not going to go without letting Tigh know exactly where he wanted to be.

 _Not in the brig. Please, not in the brig._

But they put him there anyway, and he stared at Laura Roslin as blood dried to a crust on his arms.

Across the stars, Kara decided there was no point in continuing to shout.

Lee's head dropped into his hands, then jerked back up as the smell of gore invaded his nostrils.

Kara turned inward, burying her face in Helo's jacket.

Privately, stoically, they endured.

***

 _Kara_.

Lee started awake, half-remembered dreams receding into his consciousness. She'd been there … held him, told him everything was going to be okay …

No. That was ridiculous, that was stupid. Kara was — well, gods only knew where she was — and he was here, stuck in the brig, arms still covered in blood. An ever-present reminder of what had happened, what he could not change. There had been no news in hours, not a single word, and it infuriated him to think that he could be stuck in here, stuck for as long as Tigh wanted to keep him, while his father was dying. Dad might already _be_ dead, for all he knew.

Gods, he had been so _dumb_. About _everything_. About Kara, and the mutiny, and his father … he'd sworn to himself after Kara had gone down on the desert moon that things would change, that he would behave differently. And what had he done? Well, first of all Lee had thrown caution to the wind and blurted out that he loved her (even if it was true, even if one thing he didn't regret was saying the words) without preamble, without anything to soften the shock. He saw now that it must have been a shock to her. After all the times she'd nagged him about the frat regs she obviously hadn't expected him to ignore them entirely.

Or maybe it had been disgust. Revulsion, pure and simple. Maybe she really didn't love him. Maybe the past was simply too big a thing to overcome. Maybe she'd needed to show him, in dramatic fashion, that she really didn't care, that her heart had belonged to Zak all along. Either way, Kara wasn't the only one who'd frakked up. Lee had goaded her into a fight, and then he'd hit her. So she had run, possibly for good this time, on some trumped-up religious mission of Roslin's. He knew Kara well enough to know that along with her sense of duty, she had probably just wanted to run away.

Away from _him_. That did hurt. Because even if she didn't love him, Lee loved her. He hadn't been lying about that when he told her and he certainly wasn't lying now, not to himself. She was more than just Zak's fiancée. That was how she'd started, but she had become important to Lee now in a unique way. He just wished there was a reset button that he could push to take back what had happened between them in the hangar deck. He'd punched her, and perhaps even worse, he'd all but called her a whore. Gods, the look on her face … he wished he could grab her and kiss her until they both forgot about it.

Lee wasn't even sure why he was thinking of Kara _now_ , when his mind should for all intents and purposes be on his father. Lords but he wanted her with him. She'd be just as shocked and appalled (and probably not a little amused to be on the other side of the bars for once), not to mention just as worried. He knew she cared for Dad as much as he did. Probably more, given how horrible Lee had been after Zak's death. Gods, what was with him and wasting time? Would he ever _learn?_

No. Even after he'd promised to change, he hadn't. And now, the two people he was closest to …

His breath caught and his hands shook and he might, for once, have given in and let the tears flow into the crook of his elbow had the hatch not clanked open at that very second. Momentarily startled, Lee blinked rapidly and drew in a sharp breath, unsurprised to see Laura Roslin also coming to attention in the next cell.

He wasn't sure who he'd expected to enter the brig, but renewed shock coursed through him when he caught sight of Colonel Tigh flanked by a bevy of Marines.

As Lee hurried to salute, it occurred to him that Tigh might not be bringing good news, and he felt as though a bucket of ice had cascaded into his stomach. Had something happened? Had Dad …?

No. He couldn't even think it.

"The Admiral is stable," Tigh said brusquely, almost as though he'd read Lee's mind. "But he might not stay that way. We need Doc Cottle, and he's stuck on the _Rising Star_."

"Then send a Raptor over to get him!" Lee blurted out. "Sir."

The colonel eyed him with distaste. "If we could, we would, but we can't," he snapped. "The fleet is gone. We left them behind when we jumped. And before you start lecturing me about that I'd thank you to remember that your actions have not been exemplary. Otherwise you wouldn't be here, and don't think I'll cut you any slack because of who your father is. Things are different now."

Lee bit back an angry retort. It would do him no good to dig himself deeper now. "So why are you here?"

"Why indeed," Tigh muttered, seemingly to himself. "I need you to help plan the op to get the fleet back. Lieutenant Gaeta's worked up a plan, and with Starbuck gone, you're the best strategist we have. But that doesn't mean anything is forgiven. You still disobeyed an order. Made a mockery of that uniform. You'll lead the op, but that will be your only preoccupation, is that understood?"

The Marines advanced, unlocking his cell and beginning to remove the handcuffs.

"You have my parole," Lee agreed without glancing at Roslin. "When I'm on duty, I'll make no attempt to free her or sow insurrection among the crew. And when I'm not on duty I'll report directly back to this cell."

"Pre-flight brief is underway in the ready room. Don't make me regret this."

***

The familiar notes washed over her, taking away the blood, stealing the death, a calming sedative from the inside out. Kara could pretend Sharon wasn't a Cylon. She could pretend she hadn't abandoned the fleet and most especially the Old Man on some crazy-ass mission.

She could pretend Lee loved her. Really, truly loved her, without reservation. She could pretend that doing so would not be his destruction.

The pain from her wounds was melting away. So was a slight nausea she'd felt ever since arriving back at her old apartment — probably the result of radiation exposure combined with the expired crap in her fridge. She could picture her father guiding her fingers, moving them smoothly over the keys, the little tap-and-blow they'd both do after a piece had been played correctly. He'd never taught her to play this one, but she could remember. She could remember him composing and pacing and cursing and composing again, trying to get it right. Each set of notes had been punctuated by Socrata Thrace's impatient sigh.

 _"Godsdamnit, Dreilide, if I hear that same song just one more time I'm gonna smash your keyboard!"_

Kara sighed. Momma never really understood music, nor did she understand the passion it could ignite. It often mystified Kara that her parents could have stayed together as long as they did, given that Daddy was as passionate about his music as Momma was about hating it. But then again, many of her parents' actions had puzzled her.

She fumbled for a cigar, shoving the Arrow of Apollo out of the way. Stupid frakking relic. Across from her Helo's eyebrows were raised, and Kara struggled to recall what they'd been talking about.

"After the attack, I never … I never pined over any of my old crap," she said, just to be saying _something_. She moved the cigar away from her lips, puffed out a breath and took another pull, smoking dexterously. "Never missed it. Stupid view of the parking lot, broken toilet in the bathroom. You know, everyone I know is fighting to get back what they had. And I'm fighting 'cause I don't know how to do anything else."

Helo regarded her for a moment, crossing and uncrossing his legs on the coffee table. "Kara, what's going on with you?"

 _Pull. Puff._ "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you're just … different, that's all."

"Oh, sure, I wonder why _that_ could be, Karl," Kara said sarcastically. "Let's see. The Twelve Colonies were destroyed, I lost half of my godsdamned squadron, I blew up a civilian aircraft because the Cylons took it over and gods only know how many of my friends have died since they attacked. Oh yeah, and I also found out one of my friends _is_ a Cylon. Why don't you take your pick?"

She sat back, angrily puffing on the cigar.

Karl pinned her with another glance. "What are you doing here?"

"I _told_ you." Kara glared. "The president of the Twelve Colonies — who used to be a schoolteacher, by the way — wanted me to get this arrow. Some religious quest or other."

"What else?"

"There _is_ no else."

"Really?" Helo sat back too, his boots landing on the floor. "I've served with you for almost three years. And I'm sure you're on a mission for the president. But there's a certain look in your eyes when you're running away from something. You had it for almost six months after you came aboard _Galactica_. And you've got it again. Maybe it isn't anything, but I just thought I'd ask. In case for some wild reason you want to tell me."

She opened her mouth, reaching for a snappy retort, but Lee's face floated into her mind instead.

 _Lords, what am I, some lovesick teenager?_

"It's … complicated." Kara bit her lip. Somehow she'd always leveled with Helo, and he with her. Before the worlds fell apart, he'd told her of his feelings for Sharon. It had taken almost a year of serving on _Galactica_ before she admitted her guilt over Zak's death. They'd shared silly things too, from back at the Academy. Practical jokes involving new recruits' underwear being run up the flagpole and triad bets that forced losers to stand in front of a packed briefing room and burp the Colonial Anthem. Helo had always listened without judgment, and she'd tried to do the same for him — though she sometimes couldn't restrain the occasional smart remark.

How could she admit to him how badly she'd frakked up, though? He didn't know the full story about Zak — just that, as Zak's instructor, she'd experienced an inordinate amount of regret over her fiancé's death. The thing with Lee seemed just as personal somehow. Kara had no idea where she stood. There'd been no time to puzzle out her feelings, beyond what she'd already done, and it seemed stupid to rehash all that. She loved him and he loved her but they couldn't be, so what was the point?

Then again, Helo, being in an unconventional relationship himself, might just understand.

"I screwed up," she said softly.

"Hey, we've all done that. You just finished telling me about the Cylons' talent for making us look like idiots," Karl pointed out.

"This isn't about the Cylons." Kara stared determinedly at her boots, the cigar forgotten. "I broke regs."

"Oh, and that's so new for you." Helo winked.

"I frakked a superior officer, Karl," she said sharply. "Because I thought it would help me get over things and I needed a good lay and a million other reasons. I thought I could stop it right there, end it after one or two nights, but … it got out of control. He's probably so pissed at me now it doesn't matter, but since you asked —"

"Who?"

"What?" Kara narrowed her eyes.

"Who was it? Who is this guy? Anybody I know?"

She chewed her lip. "Yeah. Yeah, probably." (There was nothing to do but say it. Just say it.) "Lee Adama. Are you happy now?"

Helo blinked, blinked again, stared into the distance. Kara counted the seconds — one, two, three, four, five — before he opened his mouth to speak. "Wow. Starbuck — wow."

" _What?_ " she snapped. "I let loose with all this stupid sentimental shit on you and all you can say is _wow_?"

He sighed, stretching out his legs and placing his arms behind his head. "Kara, why Lee?"

"I dunno. It just happened."

"For how long? 'Cause if it's any more than once or twice, that doesn't 'just happen.' You guys kept it up." Helo shook his head. "I'm just amazed he let it. I don't know him personally, but he's supposed to be quite the regs slave."

"We knew each other. From before." She did not elaborate.

"Before," Helo murmured, rolling the word in his mouth as though it tasted interesting.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Kara snapped, fixing him again with her patented Starbuck glare. "It's over now. I'm not letting it happen anymore. I've moved on."

"Has he?"

She sat quickly forward, nearly on the point of jumping to her feet and putting an end to this conversation once and for all. "How the frak should I know?"

"So you haven't asked him? You left _Galactica_ without asking him? Without figuring out if you were both on the same page about this?"

"Yeah, so?" Kara said dismissively.

She waited for him to respond, to continue condemning her actions and the relationship — wasn't that what she wanted to hear, after all, that it would never work and that she'd been right to do what she had done? — but her friend simply remained where he was, a small smirk creasing his cheeks.

"So you _are_ running," Karl pronounced finally.

That did it. Kara sprang upwards, spinning to grab the arrow.

"You know what, forget it. Forget I said anything. We should get moving anyway before your toaster girlfriend shows up with —"

"Kara, you can't keep doing this." Suddenly he was there, pressing the relic into her palm. "I know you think you can. You think any situation can be fixed by running. But have you thought that maybe sooner or later, somebody's gonna run fast enough to catch up with you?"

"Lee is a walker, Helo," Kara replied through clenched teeth. "I'm sure of it."

"Yeah?"

" _Yes._ "

"Would you take that bet in triad?" Helo winked.

"Of course I would." She glared defiantly.

"Yeah?" he said again. "Because I wouldn't."

And he was gone, climbing the stairs before she had a chance to draw another breath. His words hung in the air.

 _I wouldn't._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite heavy on the Kara/Sam interaction but with tons of Kara/Lee mentions tossed in there. K/L fans, don't fret: your turn is coming. Promise!

Thinking was such a waste of time.

Really, once a decision had been made, there should be no reason for a person to revisit that decision. It was over. Every alternative had been considered and duly discarded. In any case, second-guessing in the Colonial Fleet could get you killed. If you made a decision and then hung around for even a second to ponder if it was the right one, a Cylon could pick you off faster than blinking. There was even a saying to be taught to nuggets: thinking gets you killed, action keeps you alive. When in doubt, choose action.

The trouble was, she _had_ chosen. She'd chosen and thought (hoped?) that was it. The events just kept replaying ceaselessly in her mind, with no shutoff switch that she could use to stop it. Under any other circumstance — any other non-life-threatening circumstance — Kara might have considered that a signal that she had gone wrong somewhere. Of course, she would also usually ignore such signals, and gradually learn to live with the consequences of the mistake. She was a screw-up, after all. Mistakes were part of the job description. Most of them she could slough off, be casual about.

So why not this one?

Was this even a mistake?

If it wasn't, what was she doing standing outside looking at the stars, thinking about their last conversation over and over and over?

What the hell was happening to Kara, anyway? Gods, she wasn't even sure she wanted to know.

Things between her and Lee — well, they were _over_ , weren't they? As soon as she knew his feelings, as soon as she understood where he thought things were going, she had bailed out. To protect him. And that was one thing she could never tell Helo, because the reasoning behind that was wrapped up in Zak and what had happened to him. Through some twist of fate, Adama men seemed to be far too vulnerable to her (genetics, perhaps? Hell if she knew), and since they weren't willing or able to save themselves, it was up to Kara to do it for them.

And then there was Sam.

Samuel T. Anders. Gods.

Kara gazed at the stars, uncaring that half the sky was hidden by the high school buildings.

She and Helo'd hooked up with a resistance movement after they left her apartment. It was amazing that there even _was_ one, that this group of people had stayed alive long enough to pose a credible threat to the Cylons. A pyramid team and a bunch of survivalists shouldn't have stood a chance against nukes, but their initial story had checked out, and Kara had to admit that she was impressed by the way the resistance was organized. Set up in an abandoned high school, far from any bases, conduct guerilla attacks, seize necessary supplies and then fade back into the wooded areas surrounding Delphi. They'd survived this long, anyway — well, most of them had. According to Sam, fifty of their number had been wiped out when the Cylons ambushed them recently. But other than that, they had done remarkably well for themselves.

Hell, they even had a pyramid court, a godsdamned pyramid court, in the courtyard. Kara hadn't been able to resist taking a tour of the school for herself, and she'd stopped dead in her tracks when she came upon the court.

 _"Nice to know installing a regulation pyramid court was one of the priorities of the resistance," Kara said sarcastically, watching as Anders scooped her ball from its basket and executed a neat backhand._

"Well, there are some things one cannot live without," he returned.

She eyed the ball in his hands. Felt challenge rise up within her, welcomed it as it replaced the doubt and fear she didn't want to admit she'd been feeling. "Let's go."

"Are you kidding me?" Anders snickered. "I'll wipe the court with you!"

Kara snorted. "Yeah, we'll see about that. I was scouted for the pros. Bum knee took me out of contention." (She didn't think about Lee, about telling him that same story, about seeing the brief look of surprise flash over his face. She didn't think of how he had held her and settled her gently back in her bunk. And by the time she finished telling herself not to imagine these things, it was too late.)

Her opponent's smirk was wide, full of humour. "I see. Is that going to be your excuse when I kick your ass? 'My poor knee hurts'?"

"At least I have _an excuse," Kara retorted. "I can't imagine what yours is going to be."_

She wasn't sure when the competition turned from serious to friendly, and she tried not to notice his proximity to her as they dropped, faked, took, backhand, side shot, foul ball … and suddenly they were face to face, Sam's eyes inches from hers … as she tried to remember when she had stopped thinking of him by his last name, and begun referring to him in her mind as simply "Sam."

Kara wasn't stupid — in fact, that was a trait she prided herself on _not_ possessing, particularly when it came to men. And she'd been around enough to know when a guy was interested. They all got that certain … _look_ about them. Their backs straightened. They started sneaking glances at you when they thought you weren't paying attention. They might even come up with an excuse to get close to you, to touch your arm, to shoot you a gaze that meant more than just "nice shot." She'd seen it in bars, when she was looking. She'd seen it on the street, when she wasn't. Both Zak and Lee had worn it, at different times.

She felt quite sure she could add Samuel T. Anders to that mental list.

But … gods, _was_ there even a _but_? She and Lee were — well, hell if Kara knew what. He was a million miles away, and Helo or no Helo, she understood Adamas. They were polite, gentlemen, and if you told them to get lost, lost was exactly where they got. So, more than likely she had frakked it up, just like she'd wanted to. He wouldn't care.

He wouldn't care, if …

If …

And shit, Kara needed _somebody_.

Even if it was just … quick, even if it didn't mean anything. She needed to peel Lee's face off the back of her eyelids. She wanted to forget his soft, reassuring breath after they'd slept together.

Kara spun, kicking up dust in her wake and wrenching open the door to the school building. She wasn't sure where Sam would sleep, but as the self-proclaimed leader of the resistance, odds were he'd chosen somewhere other than a bedroll in the cafeteria. She walked slowly along the hall, peering through doors into empty classrooms, abandoned janitor closets, the auditorium, and the staff room.

Kara couldn't find him in any of those locations, so she decided she'd try the office. Maybe they would have some kind of map she could look at or something. And it was when she bent to examine a filing cabinet in the reception area that she heard the soft snores.

 _A-ha._

Leaping lightly over the counter, Kara landed with a thud and smiled slightly as she heard the snoring trip. A rapid scuffle in the next room told her she'd awoken her target, and she decided she'd best call out so as not to be confronted with the muzzle of a gun.

"Sam! Hey, it's me. Kara."

He peered out from behind the door, hair adorably ruffled by sleep. "Kara, what —? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she quickly assured him. "I just thought I'd … come by. Never congratulated you on a game well-played, so …"

Sam blinked, and paused to consult the wristwatch strapped to his arm. "At three in the morning?"

"Yeah," said Kara stubbornly, stepping closer. "No time like the present and all that."

"Kara, I'm not …" Suddenly he backed up, away, so that only his head was showing around the doorframe. "I'm not wearing anything —"

She pulled off her tanks and bra in one smooth motion, watched his pupils dilate. "What a coincidence, me neither."

"Kara —" Sam was smiling now, a little grin that she unexpectedly loved. "So what you're saying is this is actually a middle-of-the-night booty call."

"I love a guy who gets right to the point," Kara smirked, continuing to advance, watching him come fully into the doorway backlit by the moon.

"Then I can only return the favour," he whispered as they met.

She tried not to think of where else she could be now, tried not to see this as a betrayal — of herself, or of anyone else. Lee and Kara, whatever they had been and whatever they could have been, were done. Finished. She'd made sure of that back on _Galactica_ and it was time to put the exclamation point on it.

And Sam was … _there_. He was there and he was with her and he didn't know any of her history … and besides, it was simple, being with him. It was so simple, and it felt so good, and there were no strings attached and no one had said _I love you_ , which was the best part of all.

She rode him, smoothly, on the couch he'd appropriated for a makeshift bed. Kara loved the way he arched up to kiss her, the way he cupped his hands on her back and tugged her forward so he could reach her stomach. The _tongue_ on him … how he swirled it around her navel … made her gasp. It was her undoing, more than anything else ever had been. Her orgasm unspooled inside her and Kara instinctively bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood — because she knew, even now, even after all the wasted thinking, that there was absolutely nothing to prevent the Baltar incident from happening again. And she couldn't. Not with this man. Not with Sam.

She owed him that much.

He curled around Kara after they'd finished, letting her lie with him, precluding the idea of running away. Not that she'd been planning to. She felt … safe … with Sam. She'd hurt so many people already. _Too many_ people.

Kara pressed her face to the back of his neck, inhaling the scent of his hair. In and out … until she fell asleep.

***

He couldn't remember ever being so cold.

There was _frosty_ , and then there was _chilly_ , and then there was _meat locker cold_ , which was unlike anything Lee had ever experienced before. Even the blustery winters on Picon were temperate compared to this. No matter where he stood, it seemed like he was directly under a vent blasting freezing air down into the little space. He'd taken to pacing for a while, until President Roslin told him he was making her dizzy, and Lee figured doing jumping jacks would be a little too strange for this situation. So he stood, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, trying to focus on Zarek's words of advice to the group.

"What we really need is something heartfelt," the Sagittaron delegate was saying. "Something human and personal that will galvanize the people." His eyes landed on Lee. "Like a son … denouncing his father."

Lee found himself wishing Kara were here. Why, he didn't know, but he'd thought of her more times than he could count in the past few days. Organizing a resistance, making all the arrangements, fleeing _Galactica_ with Roslin and her spiritual guide, meeting up with Zarek and hiding in this meat locker … all of it was stuff she would have been good at, stuff she could have done better than he had. She'd certainly have a snappy comeback to Zarek's request, which was making him more uncomfortable than he cared to admit. After all, it hadn't been too long ago that Lee had sat in the brig, not knowing whether his father was dead or alive. Now Dad was supposedly back in control of _Galactica_ , but that didn't mean he was fully recovered. He had a talent for pushing himself farther than he should …

Lee swallowed, took the tape Zarek handed him. _It's for the good of the people_ , he reminded himself. _Sometimes we have to do things we find hard, just to serve the greater good_.

He slid the tape into a nearby player and took a deep breath before pressing Record.

"My name is Lee Adama," Lee began.

He wouldn't think of his father lying prone on the operating table in sickbay. Wouldn't think of the little gasping breaths Dad had taken, the hiss of the ventilator, the long and ragged scar down his chest, how close it had really been … and by the time Lee told himself not to think these things, he'd thought them anyway.

 _How will they know I'm serious about helping them if I can't do this? How will they know they can trust me?_

"Until recently I was the commander of _Galactica_ 's air group, but when Commander Adama, my father, decided to stage a major military coup against the president, I could no longer support him or his actions," Lee went on, his voice stronger now. "I love my father. I respect him. But in this, he is wrong, and he must be opposed. I call on all free-thinking people in the Fleet, I …"

 _I'm sure you won't approve. But I guess that's nothing new. I just want you to know that this, um … this isn't about you and me. Goodbye, Dad._

Godsdammit, he wished Kara were here.

Lee stopped the player, yanking out the tape. "I can't do this," he said softly. "I'm sorry … I thought I could, but I can't."

There was silence. Lee thought he heard Zarek snort in derision. But really, he didn't care very much what Zarek had to say right now. Blood pounded through his ears, and a strange ache seemed to have settled in the pit of his stomach.

Laura Roslin marched forward, accepting the tape from Lee's proffered hand. "I'm playing the religious card," she announced. "I know exactly what I have to do."

Her eyes held sympathy for him as she passed.

***

 _Red._

Pain, deep, hot.

People were shouting, words that fell apart into strange syllables, nonsensical sounds, as she stared at her fingers.

They were red. Red with blood.

And the pain — like someone was ripping her in half, like someone had stuffed a hot poker into her stomach. She remembered Sam kissing her there, incongruously.

"Kara! KARA!"

 _That noise, it meant something, something unique to her. But when she tried to search her mind for answers it would not respond. It would not engage. Pain kept her from caring._

Her hand moved away. She watched curiously as it was flung out to the side, feeling her centre of gravity shift. It was a bizarre sensation, but not an altogether unpleasant one. Rather like … an FTL jump. Something you couldn't control or predict.

The pain intensified. Blackness reached for her.

Kara fell.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to spend just one chapter on the events of "The Farm", but as it turned out I had so much material for my version of it that I had to split it in two. This one is a little shorter, and the next one is a little longer.

_"You want some advice? You are on the losing end of this fight. Give it up before you all die. Head further up in the mountains above the ambient radiation and just hole up."_

A blink, a scowl. Sam wasn't hearing her words — or if he did, he was choosing to ignore them. "And what? Wait to die?"

"As soon as I get back to Galactica _I'll send a rescue party." Her stomach did a strange sort of flip as she said the words, but she did not regret them._

"Yeah, right." Sam snorted.

Kara glared, the uncertainty having been replaced with anger. "If I say I'm gonna do something, I do it."

He doesn't know you, _she reminded herself._ He doesn't know about Zak or Lee. It'll be okay.

 _She wished she could believe that._

Something tugged her suddenly down … pain, coursing through her midsection … she was falling again, falling to the floor of the office, Lee rushing to catch her, whispering her name, his fingers threading through her hair …

"Hey. Hey, can you hear me?"

Lee?

No. Not Lee.

Someone else.

Sam?

Why did it hurt so much to move? To think, to even breathe?

And yet, she felt sleepy and stupid at the same time. Almost … drugged. She remembered the sensation from her latest knee injury, those pain pills Cottle had given her. Was she taking them again?

"Hey."

That voice again.

Kara struggled through the fog, raised her eyelids to half mast.

A tall, dark-skinned man in a white coat stood over her, smiling softly. He had a stethoscope around his neck and was using a penlight to check her eyes.

A doctor?

Was she in sickbay? Had she been hurt?

Her eyes shot open fully and she glanced quickly around. The room was small, windows near the ceiling on one side, a blank wall underneath them, a few tables and a mirror across from her. An IV pole stood by her bed and two bags of liquid hung from it, dripping into a needle in her arm. There were no pictures on the walls, no intercoms, not even a calendar. Just a call button and, farther away, what looked like the door to a small washroom.

She blinked, looked back up at the doctor.

"You're okay," he assured her. "You're in an aid hospital. They brought you in yesterday morning. You got shot in the abdomen. I'm Simon. Can you tell me your name?"

The words slid around in her mind. Too many syllables, too much information. Far too much medication. She couldn't begin to make sense of it all. "Kara —" she began, and then coughed; her voice sounded as though it hadn't been used for days. The cough _hurt_. Her abdomen seemed to spasm painfully.

Okay. Not too much medication after all.

"Kara Thrace," she finished weakly.

"You were in surgery for about two hours," Simon told her. "I removed the bullet, but I didn't think you were going to make it for awhile."

Still Kara hardly heard him. The pain was intensifying, radiating out from a single point in her stomach as though his description had reignited it. She couldn't think of anything but the discomfort, couldn't find her focus, couldn't … and it started to lessen, the fog reclaiming her mind once more.

"Take it easy." The doctor was adjusting her drip. "I know that hurts."

There was a question she needed to ask … the temptation to sleep was overwhelming, but Kara fought it fiercely. "Who brought me in?"

Where was Sam?

And Lee … no. Lee wouldn't be here. Lee was back on _Galactica_. This was Caprica.

"A big guy called Anders," Simon answered. "Used to be a pro pyramid player, if you can believe that."

Sam. Sam had taken her to the hospital. He had found her, he had helped her. He was probably in the waiting room right now, him and Helo and the rest of them, going crazy with worry. Maybe she could see him.

"Where is he?" Kara asked.

Her doctor looked away, a frown creasing his brow. Worry, sick fear, penetrated her haze.

"He died … on the table." Rubber snapped smartly; Simon was removing his gloves. "I thought he was only slightly wounded, but … it turns out that a piece of shrapnel had nicked his aorta. Massive internal bleeding. I'm sorry. We did everything we could do."

 _Want some advice?_

Sam had died.

He had died because of her.

If the damn son of a bitch hadn't been so concerned about saving her ass, if he'd gotten himself checked out sooner … but he hadn't, he had risked his life — _given his life_ — for her.

 _You are on the losing end of this fight._

He'd gambled so many times, him and his ragtag bunch of fighters, and it finally caught up with him. But it wasn't only that. She had promised to get him out of this, to save him, to make sure those gambles paid off.

 _Give it up before you all die._

Now she couldn't. Kara could never keep her promise, because he had died. It was final. There wasn't any way for her to get a second chance.

 _If I say I'm gonna do something, I do it._

Not this time.

She felt the tears come, and did not try to stop them.

***

Sunlight. Bright, insistent, seeming to shine even through her eyelids.

Kara felt worn out, exhausted, even though she'd just been sleeping for gods knew how many hours. She supposed it must be her recovery that was tiring, although … was it really normal to be _this_ tired? Even recovering from that crash on the desert moon, she had never been this exhausted. So exhausted that opening her eyes seemed like it'd take more energy than she'd ever had or would ever have.

The door to her room opened then, and this time she did make the effort. As she had expected, it was Simon. Kara blinked as a new question snaked its way through her brain. Why didn't he have a last name? She couldn't think of many doctors who introduced themselves by their first name rather than their last. They were always Doctor Something. Unless _Simon_ was his last name? But that didn't seem likely. Then again, maybe …

"Morning." He was checking the flow rate on her IV pump. "I see you are sucking down fluids at a rapid pace. That's good."

"Are you a Cylon?" said Kara bluntly.

Simon leveled his gaze at her. "What do you think?"

A non-committal answer. Not great. "I think you didn't answer the question."

"I am most definitely not a Cylon," the doctor chuckled. "Of course, I don't know what you would expect me to say. If I _was_ a Cylon, I certainly wouldn't admit it."

 _Maybe not. But this whole damn place is weird, and I'd be lying if I said you're not creeping me the hell out just a little_. "Can I leave?"

He pointed. "There's the door."

She forced her fatigue away, braced one elbow and then the other. But she had barely begun to raise herself up before that searing pain, always so close to the surface, ripped through her again. It tore her stomach apart, a relentless series of stabs, over and over. And it wasn't pain that she could compartmentalize or ignore, unlike so much other discomfort over the years. It pushed itself to the forefront and forced her to acknowledge it and to bow down to it.

Defeated, Kara slumped back onto her pillow.

"Frakkin' doctors," she muttered.

"So I _am_ a doctor. Not a Cylon." Simon had an amused little grin on his face.

"The jury's still out," Kara informed him. "I would expect the Cylons to have better digs than this, though. Where is this rat trap?"

"We're about twenty clicks north of Delphi. Used to be a mental institution. It's not much, but it's one of the few places the Cylons haven't found yet."

She winced again as he peeled back the dressing on her stomach, her left hand wadding the blankets into a ball. If this was what it felt like to be shot, and then to recuperate from that injury, she sure wouldn't be doing it again anytime soon. "So … what, I'm supposed to believe there really is a resistance out there?"

Simon chose not to answer, instead nodding to himself and making a note on his clipboard. "It's time for your pain meds," he told her, slipping a needle into the IV tube.

Kara sighed as she sensed the familiar numbness flooding her veins. Probably better anyway. If she was awake, she'd spend too much time thinking again, too much time dwelling on things she should just forget.

 _Sam._

His memory stabbed at her like the pain had. Too hard, too much, to think of him.

If Lee were here …

No. She stopped that line of thought instantly. No point. Why the hell was she even considering it?

That was over and done with. Even if she wished he was here and would come to see her just like he had in sickbay, it could never be, for more than one good reason.

Kara made her mind determinedly blank, and slipped into sleep.

***

 _He'd come to see her._

He had come to visit after all, even though she hadn't expected him, even though he was supposed to be back on Galactica. _Sam was there too, but it wasn't awkward, not the way she had expected it to be. She didn't even want to ask what it had taken for Lee to turn up, to come to Caprica and find out what hospital she was in and …_

But most important of all, Lee was talking to her again. He loved her again.

"Just like old times," he murmured, stroking her hair.

Kara leaned into his touch, unable to stop a smirk creasing her face. "What, sickbay? There's better places to meet people, Lee. Shouldn't a romantic like you know that?"

"A romantic?" He chuckled for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. Guilty as charged."

She reached for a snappy retort, drew breath to speak … but Lee leaned down, down, towards her, his eyes inches from hers, and she got lost in all that blue.

"We're okay?" Kara whispered instead.

"We're okay," he confirmed, and they kissed, not one of their typical duels for control but a soft, gentle caress that filled her with warmth. On the other side of the room, Sam looked up from the magazine in his lap and smiled broadly.

Yes, this was what she wanted: everyone together, everything the way it was supposed to be. No reservations or hang-ups or guilt, neither one feeling they owed the other something. Gods, Kara could get used to this.

"It's gonna be okay," Lee murmured against her lips. "Remember that, Kara."

She nodded, smiled. Pulled him closer for another embrace.


	9. Chapter 9

"Am I being interrogated again?"

Kara blinked, momentarily lost. She'd been back in the previous night's dream — stupid as it was, even knowing it was the morpha, she couldn't seem to forget it, though she'd certainly tried. Simon was examining her again, and as a distraction, she had asked him how many patients were currently in the hospital.

"I just think it's odd that I've been here for two days and I haven't seen anybody else," she told him. "Just you."

"We have two hundred and twenty-three patients at the moment," Simon said. "Plus two doctors, and five teachers masquerading as nurses."

"I know a teacher masquerading as president," Kara muttered, then winced as she felt his finger penetrate her.

"What's that?"

She cleared her throat. "It's awfully quiet. No screams, no moans. No 'doctor, doctor, please help me, it hurts.'"

"Most of our patients are succumbing to acute radiation poisoning," he explained. "Symptoms include powerful fatigue and immediate nausea. This is followed by several days of comparable well-being. After that, cell death in the gastric and intestinal tissue causes massive diarrhea, intestinal bleeding and loss of water. It's not pretty. But it is … quiet. The biggest killer in this place …" Simon paused and frowned, poking something inside that made her grit her teeth. After a moment he withdrew, stripping off his rubber gloves and striding to the sink in the corner. "As I was saying, the biggest killer in this place is infection. That's why we have you under quarantine. We don't know what you brought in with you yet."

"Is everything okay?" Kara hadn't missed the concerned, almost nervous expression on the doctor's face.

"I think there may be a cyst on one of your ovaries," he replied.

"Is it serious?"

"Nah, it should be fine. We'll keep an eye on it. Gotta keep that reproductive system in great shape — it's your most valuable asset these days."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Right."

Simon smiled. "I'm serious! Finding healthy childbearing women your age is a top priority for the resistance. And you'll be happy to know you are a very precious commodity to us."

She sighed and raised up on her elbows, pulling herself with difficulty back up the bed. This conversation wasn't exactly one she'd been planning on having. "I'm not — a commodity," Kara gritted out, collapsing back onto her pillow. "I'm a Viper pilot."

"Do you see any Vipers around here?" He chuckled like the joke was funny. "I mean, you do realize you're one of the handful of women left on the planet capable of having children, right? That is your most valuable skill right now."

 _What the frak does this guy think he's playing at?_ "Well, I don't want a child," she said sharply, "so just drop it, okay?"

"Well, no one's forcing you." Simon stood by her bed, clasping his hands behind his back. "But just take a moment and think about where you are, what's going on. The human race is on the verge of extinction. And to be quite frank with you, potential mothers are a lot more valuable right now than a whole squadron of Viper pilots." He sighed, shook his head. "I shouldn't have mentioned it; I should have known you'd have been sensitive. A lot of women with your history forego childbearing of their own."

Kara went hot and cold all over. "My history?"

He came toward the bed, picked up her right hand from where it was lying on the blanket. "I saw the fractures on your X-rays. A lot of old fractures from childhood. It's interesting … how you managed to break every finger on both hands. Every break in the exact same place, between the first and second knuckle." Simon touched the spot.

She squeezed her eyes shut, turned away. Wished she could snatch her hand away but she seemed to have frozen, time standing still, her breath panting out in little gasps. She didn't want him to say it. She didn't want him to say anything, she wanted him to shut the hell up right now, she wanted to leap from the bed and kick his ass from here to Caprica City.

Not even Lee knew this. Not even Lee had been privy to the memories being dredged to the surface … _the rubber insects on the floor … Momma screaming, shrieking … dragging her from the closet by her hair … to the door … all levity and pride at the practical joke having drained from her body as her mother grabbed her hand …_

"Did someone break your fingers, Kara?" Simon asked.

 _… and slammed the door, hard, Socrata leaving no doubt of her intentions as she held her child's hand in the doorframe, deliberately … the cracks resonating through the air …_

"Get out," she whispered.

"Children of abusive parents often fear passing along that abuse to their own children —" he began, but her eyes were still closed, she was still swallowing around the catch in her throat.

" _Get out!_ "

This time it was a scream, and he did not dare disobey.

***

That night she didn't dream. Lee did not visit her, and Sam did not smile from the corner while he read _Sporting in Pictures_. Her thoughts were ugly and misshapen, full of screaming, shouting, dark forests and the monsters that had chased her when she was a little girl, the monsters that all had her mother's voice. Several times Kara woke to dark shadows shifting on the ceiling of her hospital room, and she thought they were moving, descending … but she fell back asleep, a sleep so deep that it left her exhausted when she awoke the next morning.

It was bright and sunny, as usual. Gods, would it kill the clouds to _rain_ for once?

Rain would suit her mood.

Kara took a breath and winced, not from her abdomen this time but from nausea, bile creeping up her throat. There was a horrible taste in her mouth, something like old, sweaty socks that had been stuffed into a bunkroom locker for a month to rot. Revolting. But it occurred to her that she hadn't brushed her teeth in a few days, so disgusting breath was probably inevitable. And morpha did funny things to you when you had it on an empty stomach. Still, she wished she didn't feel so sick …

She shifted in bed, shutting her eyes tightly and breathing slowly, in through her mouth and out through her nose. The smell still prickled at the back of her throat, but at least this way she didn't need to inhale it directly.

Kara didn't want to think about last night. What kind of a doctor interrogated people, dragged up shit from their past and all but tried to sign their names to some whacked-out breeding list? She didn't want kids. Never had. Bad enough that she screwed up others' lives, ran away from relationships and otherwise destroyed them, but to suggest she should take the chance of subjecting an innocent child to all her crap? That was hitting below the belt.

And he should stay the hell away from her X-rays. Sure, he'd probably needed to take _some_ , but why of her hands? What doctor would use test results that way?

Unless Simon wasn't really a doctor. But what else would he be? He'd sure acted like one, aside from that one detail.

As if her thoughts had conjured him, the door to her room opened and Simon strode in. "Good morning," he said pleasantly, giving no hint that he remembered or regretted the events of the previous day. "You look better."

Kara chose not to reply, staring instead out the window while the doctor peeled her dressing back. After a moment she felt a new twinge, and jumped a little. At the same time, she noticed something.

There was a new scar on her abdomen.

It wasn't very long, and only a little red, and it didn't even hurt very much. But it was undeniably there, and she couldn't think where it would have come from.

"What's this new scar?" asked Kara.

Simon didn't quite meet her eyes, his gaze seeming fixed on her stomach. "They had to go back in last night while you were asleep. Some internal bleeding to tie up, nothing to worry about. Everything's going to be fine. Just about done with you, Starbuck."

Something definitely wasn't right here. Kara searched her brain, trying to puzzle it out, but the answer was proving elusive. "Nice way of puttin' it," she mumbled.

"Just a couple more tests, and …" The doctor laughed. "I almost said we'll be sending you back home, but I guess we'll be sending you back to fight."

"Sounds good to me." She eyed Simon's hand, in the process of adjusting her drip. "Hey, I just woke up!"

"And now you're going back to sleep." His smile was gentle, but firm.

 _The hell I am._

Under the covers she grasped the end of her intravenous tube, crimping it in half. Simultaneously Kara forced her eyes to drift slowly closed, pretending the slow slide into unconsciousness the medication always precipitated. "You're the doc," she told him in a purposely soft, sleepy voice. She kept her eyes closed for a long moment, breathing evenly, until she heard the door click shut behind him.

As soon as he was gone, she whipped back the covers and, in one smooth motion, yanked out her IV. It stung for a long moment, but she ignored the pain, carefully setting her feet on the floor. The tile was cold, but no worse than a battlestar's metal corrugation, and that too was simply one more discomfort to be disregarded. She _had_ to know … _had_ to find out … this might just be a resistance hospital, like Simon said, but if there was even a tiny possibility that it wasn't … Kara needed to find out.

One hand on her stomach, she boosted herself up and crept slowly to the door. Gods, this was tiring. She hadn't quite realized what just a few days in bed would do to her fitness, even though she should have. It was almost as though it had leaked out of her, in some strange way. But she knew she wouldn't need to go very far. Hospitals, real hospitals, always had a nurses' station, and it was usually pretty close to the patient rooms.

Sure enough, a little ways down the corridor, Kara heard voices. One voice in particular, strong, male, she recognized as Simon's. He seemed to be dictating into a recorder of some kind. She peered around the corner, listening hard.

"Pending lab test results on the sample ovaries, complete removal will proceed tomorrow," the doctor was saying. "However, there is a complication. A physical examination completed yesterday at fifteen hundred hours revealed the presence of a gestation already in progress. Exploratory surgery confirmed that the subject is approximately eleven weeks pregnant. Once approval is received, the pregnancy will be terminated and the subject will be moved to a processing facility for final disposition."

Her breath came hard and fast now, and she struggled not to gasp aloud. Fear strobed through her.

"Is that regret I hear in your voice, Simon?" a second voice asked.

Kara froze.

 _She knew that voice._

That woman … that woman she'd fought with when she had first come to Caprica … the _Cylon_ … so Simon must be a Cylon too … and this facility — this facility —

"If it is, it certainly isn't any of your concern," Simon answered.

Kara slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting and, as fast as she could, stumbled back to her room. Shut the door. Spun in a circle, feeling the trembling start in her hands and work its way up until her entire body was shivering, with fright and shock and …

This was a Cylon hospital. They'd kidnapped her and brought her here. Or Sam had brought her here, not knowing what it was … and she was stuck here … the windows were too high, she couldn't reach them, not even if she stood on a chair … and there was probably no way to sneak out … and … _and_ …

She was pregnant.

But with _what?_ Some half-Cylon hybrid monster that Simon and his little toaster friends knocked her up with?

No. They'd been talking about killing it. They wouldn't do that if it was theirs … would they?

If she ran to the door, snuck down the hall, tried to find the exit, somehow dodged past the Centurions — but surely this place was well-guarded, surely they'd anticipated the possibility of their "subjects" fleeing —

They would kill her if she stayed. Or make her some kind of machine. Of that, Kara was certain.

How could she stop it?

And the tears were coming, springing to her eyes from shock, fear, panic. _She couldn't do this._

"Lords of Kobol," Kara whispered brokenly, "please help me …"

A last, desperate prayer …

… and it gave her the answer.

***

"Morning."

This time, Kara delivered the greeting.

Simon blinked.

She didn't blame him for looking a little puzzled. It must have been weird for him to see a supposed patient up, looking him right in the eye, instead of waking sleepily from a drug-induced stupor. Especially _this_ supposed patient.

Kara gripped the object in her hand, tightly enough that she could feel it straining to break through her skin.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" he asked.

She cocked her head to the side, pretending consideration. "You know, something actually has been bothering me lately."

He came closer. Closer. Kara held her breath. She would only get one shot at this, so she had to do it right the first time.

Simon leaned down.

Kara struck.

With a scream born partly of determination and partly of fear, she whipped her hand out from beneath the covers, fast and hard and sharp, to embed the sliver of the broken bedside mirror deeply in the doctor's jugular vein.

He gurgled in surprise, blood flooding out of his mouth.

"I never told you my callsign was Starbuck," she whispered acidly.

She drove the glass deeper, deeper, and still he was just _looking_ at her with those eyes, looking and not dying, _not dying_ …

As if Simon read her thoughts he rasped, "You can't kill me …"

"Just … _die!_ " she screamed, and he finally did. Slumped wide-eyed onto her, his life gushing out over her hands, revulsion permeating every inch of her body as she shoved him aside onto the bed and stood up, away, the beginnings of a plan taking shape in her mind.

 _Get the keys. Lock the door. Find the main entrance. Sneak out. Get out, no matter what._

The alternative would be so much worse.

Moments later she found herself in the hallway, her clothing under one arm and the keys dangling from her fingers. There wasn't time to figure out which way to go. Kara decided on right, away from the nurses' desk and the blonde toaster woman. There had to be another exit this way … had to be … had to be …

She came upon a set of locked double doors, and quickly opened them. _Get away, go, escape —_

But what Kara saw made her stop short … as she realized the full extent of the Cylons' plans.

Women.

Women, maybe tens of them, maybe dozens — she couldn't see too clearly — hooked up to machines, every inch of them covered in monitors, sticky pads, beeping sensors. Their legs were spread wide, hooked into stirrups, and she noticed, sickeningly, that the Cylons had made no provisions for the modesty of these people. They were naked to the world, defenseless.

Kara swiped a hand furiously across her face. And gasped.

" _Sue-Shaun!_ "

It was unmistakably her friend, the image of her tied down and helpless so at odds with the strong, confident pyramid player who'd pointed a gun at Kara and threatened to shoot her when they first met. How, why, Kara didn't know. But somehow, they were trapped in the same nightmare. Again she felt bile rush up her throat.

"Sue-Shaun, it's me, Kara." She bent down close to the bed where Sue-Shaun was tethered. "Hold on, okay? I'm gonna get you out of here —" Frantically she searched for an electrical cable, a shutoff switch, _anything_ she could pull …

"No," Sue-Shaun whispered, so quietly that Kara had to lean right down to hear her. "No time. Cut the power."

Kara stared doubtfully at the wires. It didn't take a scientist to know that would be lethal. "It'll kill you!" she protested.

"Can't live like this," her friend gasped. "We're baby machines … please. _Please_."

She felt more tears come, and didn't try to stop them this time as she furiously whispered last rites into Sue-Shaun's ear. Kept on crying as she grabbed the first tool that came to her hand, a pair of forceps, and smashed the machines, smashed and smashed and smashed, hardly aware that she was screaming, yelling and sobbing all at the same time …

Kara didn't stop.

She didn't stop, not when the machines began to shut down and the women's eyes all went blank, a horrible mosaic of death … she didn't stop when the blonde Cylon appeared unexpectedly from behind a door and Kara knocked her unconscious with a fire extinguisher … she was still crying as she stumbled down the stone steps, still clutching her stomach, which felt about to burst open …

And somehow, she kept going when a new Simon emerged from behind a pillar and greeted her. Somehow she kept going as shots tore the doctor's body apart and voices screamed at her to move … she kept running, crossing the dirt, pulse pounding furiously … racing towards Sam and the rest of the resistance gathered behind a sand berm.

 _How_ , she did not know.

 _How_ was for later.

Now, she could only flee, gasping out every breath, toward security, toward love …

Toward home.


	10. Chapter 10

She had forgotten about the stars.

Kara almost couldn't believe it, since they had become so much a part of her life. Funny how some time planetside could render all that moot. But now, spread out before her, they seemed to beckon. _Leave Caprica behind. Forget it. None of that matters now._

Of course, it _did_ matter, and there was no use pretending otherwise. The conversation she'd had with Helo and Sam and Sharon the Cylon when they made it back to Delphi had mattered.

 _"They were conducting research into human-Cylon breeding programs," Sharon explained when Kara asked about Simon, and the women hooked up to machines._

Kara wrinkled her nose. "Human-Cylon?"

"They call them farms," Helo put in, gently affixing a fresh dressing to the healing wounds on her abdomen. "Your gunshot wound looks fine," he added, by way of reassurance.

"So farms, that's great," Kara muttered. "What were they gonna do, knock me up with some Cylon kid?"

If they haven't already. _She swallowed._

"They were going to try to," said Sharon. "We haven't been successful so far."

"Supposedly they can't reproduce — you know, biologically," Sam added from her other side. "So they've been trying every which way to produce offspring."

Kara blinked. Swallowed again. "Why?"

"Procreation is one of God's commandments: be fruitful," Sharon replied. "We can't fulfill it. We've tried. So we decided to —"

"To rape _human women?" Kara interrupted angrily._

The Cylon shook her head. "No — if you agreed to bear a child, it'd be voluntary. Maybe they'd even set you up with someone you like."

Kara snickered, looking from Helo to Sharon and back again. Refusing to think of Lee, of what might have happened already. "Like you two kids?"

"We're different," Sharon insisted.

"What the frak is that supposed to mean?" demanded Kara.

"They have this theory that maybe the one thing they were missing was love," Helo mused. "So Sharon and I … we were set up to —"

"To fall in love?" Her anger was rising again, clogging her throat. "They didn't ask Sue-Shaun if she wanted to fall in love, all right? They put a tube in her, and they hooked her up to a machine!"

She was yelling, and she knew it, but she couldn't seem to stop.

"They know who you are, Kara," Sharon said calmly, showing no reaction to her outburst. "You're special. Leoben told you that. You have a destiny."

Kara shuddered involuntarily. That particular toaster model was the last thing she wanted to think about right now. Instead she turned her attention back to Helo, who was scrutinizing her abdomen again.

"Starbuck, what is this second scar?" he asked.

"I don't know," Kara lied. "I don't think I wanna know now. You know?"

Thinking back on it, she wondered if she should have leveled with her friend. She wondered if she should have told him what she knew, what she'd overheard while listening to Simon and the blonde toaster. Or even what she'd figured out later, the fact that she barely wanted to admit to herself, let alone anyone else.

Perhaps she was justified in worrying whether the Cylons had taken anything from her, but she knew that her other concern had no basis in fact. She couldn't possibly be impregnated with some Cylon kid, not if she was already eleven weeks along. They might have implanted something into her, but two things didn't add up: firstly, that they would then try to kill it after presumably working so hard to get her body to accept it. And secondly, Sharon had said the toasters hadn't yet been successful with their little breeding program. Kara might be special, but she doubted she was _that_ special.

Besides, there was another fact that overrode all of that. Kara had never been great at math, but you had to have sex to get pregnant (so long as you weren't taken prisoner at one of those frakkin' farms). The numbers, when analyzed, offered only one conclusion. The only time she'd gone off her shots had been after the destruction of the Twelve Colonies, when shipments of supplies were delayed and rearranged and delayed again, but she had assumed there'd be enough of the preventative substance left in her body to cover her. Obviously, she'd been wrong.

And obviously, she had now completely frakked things up but good. Pregnant. A kid. A little bundle of messy, smelly, noisy human. Something she was absolutely, positively not prepared for, and something she had never wanted. Part of her, a _large_ part, wanted to run straight to Cottle when she got back to _Galactica_ and ask when she could get rid of it. She knew procreation laws had been tightened in the months since the attack, but surely an exception could be made for the fleet's best pilot. Surely, protecting the fleet from Cylons was a much better role for Kara Thrace to fill than that of broodmare.

So why did she keep thinking about Lee? Why did she keep picturing the look on his face when she told him?

For Kara was certain the child was his. The numbers didn't add up to anything else, which she was glad for, in a way. She didn't relish having to ask the cantankerous Cottle for a paternity test on top of all the other crap. And when she thought of the other two men she'd been with … well, she was pretty sure children hadn't been on Sam's mind when she visited him in the middle of the night. It would complicate things unnecessarily, even more than they were already.

And the idea of Gaius Baltar's child …

Kara wasn't even going to dignify _that_ with a response.

But — _what was she going to do?_

She decided to put it out of her mind right now. At the moment, there was no action she could take. There was nothing she could do until they reached _Galactica_ , which was probably a good thing. She felt paralyzed with indecision and fear.

Instead, she chose to remember her goodbye with Sam. Knowing about the baby and all the trouble it would cause, Kara hadn't wanted to lead him on, at least not romantically. Under a different set of circumstances, she might have allowed herself to feel something for him, to let the natural attraction take over, but now, she kept returning to the idea of unnecessary complications. Gods only knew what would happen when she saw Lee again. If it was truly over between them … but, there was the pregnancy. In any case (Kara mentally scolded herself for venturing down that path again), the point was that Sam was too nice to get wrapped up in her disasters. Just as she had protected Lee, she needed to protect Sam.

But that didn't mean she couldn't renew her promise.

 _When he pulled the Arrow of Apollo from its underground hiding place, Kara had stifled a gasp._

"Go find Earth," Sam said softly, his tone leaving little room for compromise.

She bit her lip. "What about you? You said you needed professional advice."

"We'll muddle through. We've managed so far."

That didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things, and Kara knew it. She could still recall the waves of grief that had paralyzed her when Simon told her of Sam's supposed death. Could she really leave him here, possibly to face that kind of fate for real? Could she live with the guilt if it ended up happening?

"They'll kill you," she whispered. "You'll die here. You know that."

"A lot of people died here," replied Sam. "I tell you this: if I'm gonna die here, I'm gonna take out every last one of those frakkin' farms before I do."

"I'm not going to leave you here!" Kara insisted.

"You said you were going to come back, remember?" he asked. "I'm gonna hold you to it."

She lifted her chin. Tried to smile, but it was so hard, knowing how difficult things would be for him. And Kara had grown to care for Sam a lot during her time with the resistance. She felt it was almost impossible not to. These were good people. They deserved better than to die at the hands of a faceless enemy.

Kara reached up to her neck, to where her dog tags hung on the chain. Slowly she pulled one off, opened Sam's hand, and dropped the little piece of metal into it.

"I'm coming back," she told him firmly. "I said it. I meant it."

"Yeah." He smiled, touched her face. "Be safe."

She hadn't said anything more, feeling that she had given him all she could. But now, she wondered if she should have promised either more or less. It was so hard to know, especially when there were so many other possible things to consider. Kara was amazed that she was even thinking like this in the first place. Thinking over and considering decisions carefully were hardly her strong suits.

"Preparing to make the jump to provided coordinates." Sharon's voice startled Kara out of her daze. She looked up and faced front.

"Do they know we're going to be jumping in with a heavy Raider?" Helo asked. "I'm just afraid they might shoot first and ask questions later."

"They know I left in a Raider," Kara shrugged. "They should be smart enough to figure out that I'll be arriving in one too."

***

"Not a peep, Tom," Lee heard Meier say as he entered the _Astral Queen_ 's control room. "It's either a Cylon vessel or it's a Raptor scout from _Galactica_. Either way, we should shoot first and ask questions later."

"Okay," Zarek said.

Lee studied the DRADIS console. The little dot that represented the unknown vessel didn't seem all that threatening for some reason, even though it was advancing. Suspicion tugged vaguely at his gut but refused to make itself known.

"The _Adriatic_ is in weapons range, and she's got ship-to-ship missiles," Meier continued. "Tom, that thing is moving fast. If we're gonna shoot it down, we'd better shoot it down!"

"Shoot what down?" demanded Laura Roslin's voice from behind them. When no one answered immediately, the president marched angrily forward. "Do I have to repeat myself?"

"Madame President, we have a security situation, that's all," Meier assured her.

"She wasn't talking to you," Lee spoke up hurriedly.

"There's an unidentified ship making its way towards us," Zarek explained. "It's too big to be the lieutenant's Cylon raider."

 _And yet …_ Lee again got the distinct feeling that shooting would be the wrong thing to do right now.

"It's in weapons range. The _Adriatic_ has to fire her missiles now!" exclaimed Meier.

"We need a decision, Madame President," Zarek insisted.

Then —

" _Civilian vessels, civilian vessels. This is Starbuck. Do you read? Do you read? Say again, this is Starbuck. Is anybody getting this? Hello? Hello?_ "

Lee nearly swallowed his tongue.

That voice belonged to the person who'd occupied his thoughts almost more than any other since this whole nightmare began … the person he knew could have offered him comfort and solace through those events, just as he would have offered the same to her … the woman that, in his heart of hearts, he realized he still cared for just as much despite everything that had happened between them. When Kara had come back from the desert moon he had promised himself that things would be different. He hadn't exactly started out very well, but by gods, he was going to make up for it.

If she would let him.

Lee was moving out into the hallway before he had even made the conscious decision to do so, heading for the docking bay, his entire body tingling in anticipation. Really, he thought to himself, it was pathetic how excited he was to see her again, but he couldn't help it. It seemed like it had been a long time. And such a lot had happened since she left …

He heard the _thunk_ of the docking clamps as they engaged, and then the hiss of a door slowly opening. Then, footsteps sounded, footsteps that he would have been able to identify in a second as hers … swift and sure, not hesitating for a moment.

Kara came around the corner.

She looked different, but not that different. Her hair had grown a few inches, and she'd pulled it back into a short ponytail. She wore not the regulation tanks and cargoes, but rather a Caprica Buccaneers sweatshirt that zipped up the front, and leggings. He thought she seemed a little heavier than when she'd left, but it might be his imagination; he was so unused to seeing her in anything but military garb.

She looked … _beautiful_.

Again Lee moved without thinking, without heeding Roslin and Zarek and the others coming into the corridor behind him. He rushed forward, arms open, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Kara," he whispered, while his heart sang with relief. No matter what, she was the same. She felt the same, her breath had that same little catch it always got when their cheeks met … and best of all, she was hugging him back just as tightly, her arms wrapped around him, and from the shape of her face he could tell she wore a broad smile.

"I missed you," she breathed.

 _Did she just say what I think she said? Gods, if only I could freeze time._

But he couldn't, and Lee knew the moment had to come to an end. Pretty soon their audience would probably start shuffling around, clearing their throats, demanding information.

They pulled back at the same time. The look in Kara's eyes was one of pure joy, so different from the last time Lee had seen her. Impulsively, he leaned down and kissed her.

It didn't last long, and some of the passion that usually permeated these types of encounters between them was necessarily absent. But she was kissing him back, her tongue pressing gently against the edges of his lips, seeking entrance. He smiled against her mouth, one hand coming up to brush through her hair before he gently pulled away.

"Good to see you too, Captain." Kara was smirking, but her eyes held inexplicable … relief? That was certainly what it looked like.

Lee chuckled, his hands still resting on her shoulders. "Remind me to send you to the brig later."

"Lieutenant," Roslin interjected, but Kara did not turn.

"Lee, there's something I need to tell you —" she began.

He wasn't listening.

His attention was diverted by another familiar form making its way around the corner, a form that was not nearly as welcome as Kara's had been. _Somehow_ … he couldn't understand how … Boomer was supposed to be back on _Galactica_ in the brig … but she wasn't, she was _here_ … and before anyone could say another word, Lee whipped out his sidearm and pinned the toaster against the bulkhead.

"Don't you frakking move," he ordered through clenched teeth, fury coursing through him.

Kara was shouting something, something about the thing being on their side, but Lee wasn't listening. Did not in fact begin paying attention again until he felt the cold muzzle of another weapon being pressed against his head.

"Drop your weapon, sir," growled a voice from behind him that he recognized as belonging to Karl Agathon. "Drop your weapon."

"Helo!" cried Kara.

"Gentlemen, I'm only going to say this once." The president's voice was deadly calm. "Captain Adama, and — what is your name?" she addressed Karl.

"Lieutenant Agathon," he said stiffly.

"Used to be Sharon's ECO," Lee gritted out. "I thought you were dead, Helo. You a Cylon, too?"

"Don't even," Helo warned.

"All right, here's what we're going to do," Roslin said firmly. "You're going to lower your weapons. Am I being perfectly clear?"

"What about Sharon?" demanded Helo.

"She will be taken to a holding cell where she will remain unharmed."

"Okay. How about it, Apollo?" He turned to Lee. "Should we do what the nice lady says?"

"She's the president of the Colonies, you moron, we're gonna do exactly what she says," Lee muttered.

"Lower your weapons _now_ ," commanded Roslin.

Reluctantly Lee released the toaster, simultaneously feeling the pressure vanish at the back of his head. He felt rather than saw Kara coming to stand near him, taking his arm, and focused on that in an attempt to ease his anger.

"Thank you." The president inclined her head to both of them. "Now, put that thing out the airlock."

" _What?_ " Helo exclaimed as a group of Marines began to drag the Cylon toward a nearby decompression chamber.

"We don't keep Cylons around here, Lieutenant," Roslin snapped.

"What the frak? You said you weren't gonna hurt her!" he protested.

"Hey, Helo, listen to me! One of those things put two rounds into my father's chest!" Lee practically snarled, fury flaring again.

"It wasn't me!" the toaster blurted, fighting her guards desperately.

"Adama was shot?" Kara said at the same time, her grip tightening on Lee's arm.

"Yeah, you missed a few catastrophes while you were away," he told her.

"Please tell me he's alive …" Her voice was barely audible.

"After two emergency surgeries, Cottle managed to save him."

"It wasn't me!" repeated Sharon.

Helo rounded on Kara. "Kara, for the love of gods, Sharon — _this_ Sharon — saved our lives back on Caprica. Tell them! _Tell them!_ "

Lee snorted in disbelief.

"I know how to find the Tomb of Athena!" the Cylon insisted. "Do you? Kobol's a big planet! You don't find the Tomb, you don't find Earth!"

"Listen to her, for gods' sakes!" Karl bellowed. Lee noticed that he was trying as hard to get to Sharon as she was trying to get away.

"Listen to me!" Sharon cried. Her yells echoed down the corridor as they dragged her around a corner.

Lee's attention, meanwhile, was drawn back to Kara. She had opened the large cylindrical container strapped to her back, pulling out a relic that could only be the Arrow of Apollo. This she offered to Roslin with the air of someone fulfilling a long-held promise.

The president glanced back down the hall. "Tell them to wait a minute," she murmured almost contemplatively.

"Yes sir," said a nearby Marine.

"Thank you," Roslin told Kara. "Mr. Zarek, is there some place where that … young woman and I can speak?"

"I can arrange that," Zarek spoke up.

Lee bit his lip, having shed none of the anger. He could hardly believe Roslin thought this was the right thing to do — this model had shot his father, so gods only knew what other plans it might have! He knew he ought to trust the president — she had brought them this far — but … but … his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"It's great to see you again," he murmured to Kara, unable to smile like he wanted. "Thanks for bringing in the trash."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the fic truly begins to deserve the AU label, as ongoing events start to intervene and deflect the characters from their canonical paths. We're still working within the framework of canon, though, so there's some familiar dialogue as well. There's also mention of some controversial topics, but I do hope that everyone who reads this will take those in the spirit in which they were intended, as a civil discussion rather than a condemnation either way.

_Whack. Thunk._

Whack. Thunk.

Kara was sitting on a slim bench bordered by a wire fence, aimlessly bouncing a pyramid ball off the opposite wall. It was the ball she and Sam had used for their game back on Caprica. Stupid as it was, he'd insisted she keep it, and she couldn't bear saying no. It was, after all, a tangible reminder of Sam Anders, and the promise she had made to him. He had her dog tag, she had his pyramid ball. It seemed like a fair trade.

Except, of course, that it wasn't. She got to return to a warm, comfortable, mostly-safe ship, while he and the rest of the resistance had to go right on struggling for their lives. Even if Kara was able to return with a rescue party, there was no guarantee they'd be alive by the time she managed to get there. The Cylons might pick them off. They might run out of meds and die from radiation poisoning. Really, any number of catastrophes might befall them, and if she couldn't rescue them in time, she would break her promise and have their deaths on her conscience. Just like Zak's. And, she supposed, her mother's.

 _Whack. Thunk._

Whack. Thunk.

But, much as Kara hated to admit it, Sam and the resistance were almost the least of her problems right now. She couldn't stop thinking about those women at the farm, the ones who had died and the ones who might still be trapped right at this moment, right as she sat here. Not to mention her own twisted role in the whole affair. Would she have realized she was pregnant, had the Cylons not figured it out? She tried to remember the dates of her last menstrual cycle, and could not. Then again, everything had been so frakked up since the attacks that almost every woman in her squadron had skipped a period or two. Some had stopped menstruating altogether because of the stress. Kara herself had always cycled irregularly anyway, so she knew a missed period alone would probably not have signaled anything to her.

The only thing that might have tipped her off was the ongoing nausea. Before, she'd found a thousand and one reasons to explain it away. She had felt really sick the morning after Colonial Day, but put that down to having drunk too much the night before. ( _Oh gods. The drinking, the cigar smoking — people weren't supposed to do that when they were pregnant, were they?_ ) The same thing had happened in her apartment on Caprica, but the stench of rotting food in the fridge had turned even Helo green. In the farm, she'd assumed it was the morpha playing havoc with her empty stomach. But she had been sick other times too … she'd needed to dash out of the office to a washroom the morning she woke up with Sam, and Lee had found her hunched over a toilet in the officers' bunkroom a few hours before the Colonial Day festivities. Again Kara had made excuses. Food poisoning, a stomach bug. Nothing to worry about. But it had been after all.

 _Whack. Thunk._

Whack. Thunk.

What the hell was she going to _do?_

Every time she thought of the situation she was in, the decisions she had to make, panic seized her and closed her throat. She felt utterly trapped, and _utterly trapped_ was never something that ended well for Kara Thrace. Usually, she ran, or tried to run, and often she was successful. But how could you run when what you were running from was inside you? How could you flee when it would always come with you, no matter what you did?

Kara knew that she absolutely, categorically, emphatically did not want kids. More than anything else, they scared her. She was hesitant to admit that, even to herself, but that frakkin' toaster had been right. What if she did end up like her mother? What if, without even knowing it, she perpetuated the cycle Socrata had begun? She couldn't be a parent. She just couldn't. Parenthood and Kara were as incompatible as oil and water. Besides, she loved to fly. Flying was her life. And the regulations were clear: any woman who conceived was prohibited from piloting a Viper until her baby was born. The g-forces were simply too damaging to a developing embryo, greatly increasing the risk of miscarriage and birth defects. Pregnant pilots hadn't been forced to resign before the attacks — they were usually given some desk job until they went on maternity leave — but there was certainly little place for them around a hangar deck.

Nine months without flying … she couldn't imagine it.

 _Whack. Thunk._

Whack. Thunk.

And then, there was the problem of Lee.

When she had first landed on the _Astral Queen_ and had seen how he'd embraced her, how he had kissed her, she had been all set to tell him. Not right there in the corridor with everybody watching, but later, when they could talk privately. Now, she wasn't nearly so sure that she should. The way he'd reacted to Sharon … not that that had anything to do with the baby, but he'd been so _angry_. She didn't think she had ever seen him like that before. Whatever had happened on _Galactica_ with the Old Man must have really upset him.

Since he was still dealing with that, though, how would he react if Kara told him about the baby? (Did she even have the right to call it a baby, since she didn't want kids? It was really just a collection of cells, right?) They'd never talked about children, never. Truthfully, they hadn't even really talked about what Kara and Lee represented to each other, aside from Lee's failed attempt on Colonial Day. Did Lee want kids? He seemed like the type of guy who'd like to settle down and raise a huge brood, but she couldn't be sure. What if he _didn't_ want them? What if he got angry at her, as angry as he'd been the night after she slept with Baltar? Would he hit her again?

What if he _made_ her get rid of it?

 _Whack. Thunk._

Whack. Thunk.

Gods, she was being so stupid. Nobody could make her get rid of it, just as nobody could make her keep it. Not Lee, not his father, not any other superior asshole. (Kara had a sudden mental image of Tigh begging her to have a baby, and almost burst out laughing. More likely he'd run screaming in the other direction upon finding out that _she_ had spawned.) The choice was hers and hers alone. Her rights as a citizen of the Twelve Colonies guaranteed her that.

So why the frak was she having so much trouble with it?

 _Whack. Thunk._

Whack. Thunk.

Footsteps sounded behind her and Kara stifled a sigh. Probably it was some Marine or maybe even Zarek or the president, seeking guidance. She didn't feel up to giving anyone any advice right now, not when she couldn't even figure out her own godsdamned life.

"Hey."

She jumped, suddenly imagining Simon, how he'd coaxed her to wake in the hospital that was not a hospital at all. But this wasn't Caprica, and the person behind her wasn't the toaster doctor.

It was Lee. Frak.

 _Whack. Thunk._

Whack. Thunk.

"I was wondering when we'd finally get a little rest and relaxation around here." He came around to the front, faced her, winked. When she didn't smile, Lee captured the ball off her next _whack-thunk_ and held it up, grinning.

"Can I have my ball back?" Kara asked tiredly. The initial headiness of the reunion had worn off, and she now just wished he would leave her alone to think.

Lee chuckled. "What, can't I hold it?"

She sighed and held out her hands. "Can I have my ball back? Please?"

He studied it, tossed it, executed a neat _whack-thunk_ of his own. "Where'd you get a pyramid ball, anyway?"

"Caprica," Kara muttered. Then, for the third time, "Can I have my ball back, Lee?"

"Yeah. Sure." But Lee wouldn't give it to her, faking a throw and then holding it away. Looking at her all the time, clearly expecting her to go along with the game, to flow into their natural camaraderie, perhaps to give him an opening for something more. He was a guy, after all.

"Lee?" she said.

He hurried around the fence, flopped down onto one of the benches, lying on his back. _Men!_ Kara thought angrily. She sure wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of _that_ , not when doing so was what had gotten her into this whole mess in the first place.

"Fine, keep it." Lords, she was too exhausted for this shit. Much as she didn't want to, Kara knew she should rest, and she headed for the door. Maybe Zarek had a spare bunk she could borrow.

She was almost through when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, come on, Kara," Lee said softly from behind her. "For frak's sake, I'm just kidding around. Here, it's all yours." He pressed the ball into her hand, threaded gentle fingers through her hair like he had outside the docking bay. "You can take your ball and go home now."

Kara barked a mirthless laugh. "Whole thing's stupid anyway."

Lee walked around to the other side, facing her. "Is everything all right? Anything you'd like to talk about?"

 _The baby, Sam, the farm, Sharon and Helo, Adama …_ It all raced through her mind in a fraction of a second. "Nope."

"Really?" He was right up close now, almost pressed against her. "I'm not so sure."

Gods, what the hell was with him? Lee had _never_ kept bugging her like this. Usually he just let her alone, let her cope with whatever she had to. Was he taking lessons from Karl or something?

"I don't need you to take care of me, Lee," Kara snapped, trying to get around him. "I can manage that just fine on my own."

He shook his head. "I'm not trying to take care of you. I don't know if there's a person left in the Twelve Colonies who could do that against your will."

Despite herself, she chuckled. "Yeah. I guess."

Lee sighed, looked at his feet and then back up again. "It's just … the thing is, some things changed for me after Dad was shot. I should have known it before, but I started to realize life is too precious to be taken for granted. You've gotta get everything you can, and you have to get it while you can, because at the end of the day, you may not have a tomorrow. Tigh threw me in a brig cell after the shooting because I'd put a gun to his head on _Colonial One_ , and all I could think about, sitting in that cell, was how the last impression my father might have of me was as a mutineer. It changes you, Kara."

"Hold on a second." Kara was still snickering. " _You_ put a gun to Tigh's head? Gods, what I wouldn't have given to be a fly on the wall for _that!_ "

The glance Lee directed at her was pained. "I'm trying to be _serious_ here."

"I know, I know, just … lords, Lee, what are you trying to do, turn into me?" She could no longer restrain herself, and burst into loud guffaws.

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Well, at least I made you laugh."

"Yeah," Kara grinned. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"You're welcome." Lee reached for her hand; she let him hold it. "I'm not finished, though. Getting back to what I was saying before …"

"Lee, if this is about Colonial Day —" she warned, but he cut her off.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," he said gently, his eyes full of regret. "For … well, for everything, really. I should have realized how you'd feel about me saying something like that. I just blurted it out without thinking, and I shouldn't have. I don't know how I could have been so insensitive."

 _That_ knocked her completely off-balance. "Well — but —" Kara stammered. She was annoyed with herself, for her reaction and for the way she was fumbling around for an answer. And, if she was to be honest with herself, for the way she was getting lost in those eyes again. "I — well … I guess you're not the only one to blame here," she finished lamely, and suddenly she couldn't look at him.

"We probably both did some things we regret," Lee acknowledged, "but I started the whole thing. I backed you into a corner. I'm not even talking about Colonial Day anymore, I guess … from that first night in sickbay, I didn't mean for it to go as far as it did. I meant for us to start out slowly, to see if there even was an 'us,' but it kind of got out of control."

She swallowed. "What are you saying, Lee?"

"What am I saying." This time _he_ couldn't look at _her_. "Well … I guess I'm saying that if you don't feel the same way, if you've never felt the same way, if Zak — if the past is still too much of a barrier, then … you can walk away. I might feel differently, but I'll understand it. I'll accept it. I don't ever want you to feel like you're doing me a favour or doing this against your will. Not that anyone could make you, but …" He trailed off.

Kara chewed her lower lip, feeling scared and amazed at the same time. She thought of Sam, of her promise to him, of how she'd given him her dog tag … and yet she also knew that there was something between her and Lee, something intangible and strange, yet wonderful at the same time. Gods, nobody had ever put it to her this way, given her options … except perhaps Zak. Lee reminded her uncannily of his brother in this moment.

"Lee, I …" She stopped, breathed deeply. Her stomach was doing flips. The truth was on the tip of her tongue, itching to come out … and the worst thing was that now he _had_ given her options, Kara didn't know which one she wanted. It was yet another choice to make, among the blizzard of choices that already filled her mind.

"It's okay," he assured her. "You don't have to decide right now. I promise."

Kara took another breath and stared determinedly at her toes.

"Lee, I'm pregnant."

It was barely a whisper, but she knew he'd heard when she glanced quickly up at him and saw the look on his face.

There was a long silence.

"Oh," he squeezed out finally. "Well. I, uh — wow. Wow."

Kara sighed and crossed her arms, walking around him and back to the bench. She was in for it now; surely Lee would want to have a long, drawn-out discussion after she'd blurted _that_ out. She might as well be comfortable while they did it.

"Okay." Lee was following her, she could tell by his footsteps. "Well. How long have you known?"

"Let's just say I figured it out on Caprica and leave it at that."

"You were sick?" His tone was laced with concern.

She picked at the hem of her C-Bucs jacket. "Yeah. That and a lot of other things."

Lee's hand slid into hers. "Have you thought about what you'd like to do?"

Kara glanced up at him, unable to conceal her surprise this time. Of all the questions she'd expected him to ask, that one had been pretty far down the list. He must not have been kidding when he said the incident with his father had changed him.

"I don't know," she admitted, still in almost a whisper. "The whole thing with kids, a house, a white picket fence, toys in the yard … I'm a pilot, Lee, I was never cut out for any of that. If it hadn't been for the attacks we wouldn't be having this godsdamned conversation."

"What do you mean?" Lee asked.

"The shots," Kara told him. "The supplies of birth control shots were rescheduled, delayed, sometimes never even got there at all. Hardly anybody complained, because nobody was frakking anyone else, nobody had time to … except me."

"So you're saying …" She could see the light come on behind his eyes. "You're saying you think it's mine?"

"I _know_ it's yours. Frakkin' math doesn't work any other way. Eleven weeks along now." Kara glanced away.

"Gods," Lee murmured.

"When I found out I kept thinking about going to Cottle, asking him to get rid of it," she continued. She looked quickly at him, saw he was receptive, and kept on. "I figured I'd jump back here and _Galactica_ would be waiting and that would be it. I was so sure I'd made my decision. But …"

"But?" he prompted.

"But … I don't know. It's complicated. The Lords of Kobol … abortion is against the Scriptures. The gods say life begins at conception. It's stupid, but even though I'm a screw-up, I've always believed, I've always prayed." Kara willed him to understand, not to question this new side of her.

"Okay." Lee leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and folded his hands. "Well, what about adoption? You could carry the baby to term, and then we could find some couple who maybe isn't able to have children of their own, and arrange something. I can ask Roslin; I'm sure she'd help us."

Kara considered. The prospect seemed attractive at first — she wouldn't need to go against her beliefs, and whichever adoptive parents could be found were probably far better suited to raise a child than she was. The kid would have two loving parents who didn't doubt themselves and weren't scared.

But she would still have to put up with being pregnant for nine months. She still wouldn't be able to fly. And another image was pushing its way to the surface of her subconscious … a vision of herself, giving birth to a baby with Lee's features and Zak's eyes … looking down at her child and seeing echoes of her dead fiancé there … and a faceless orderly coming to take him away, to where she would never see him again or know what happened to him.

"No," Kara whispered. "I don't — I don't think I could."

Lee nodded. "That's fine. I just thought I'd suggest it."

"I know." She gazed at him, managed a tiny grin. "Thanks, Lee. Really. I mean it."

His answering smile was soft, accepting, everything she had believed it could never be.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kobol arc of this fic turned out _way_ longer than I'd been planning, such that I ended up having to split it into three separate chapters instead of one. There's some canon-based scenes and dialogue here, but the majority of it is AU discussions between K/L.

_"Lee, I'm pregnant."_

"I can't get a pulse!"

"Blood pressure falling!"

"Dad! DAD!"

"Where the hell are the medics?"

"The Lords of Kobol … abortion is against the Scriptures. The gods say life begins at conception."

"One shot brushed the aorta, the other went right through the spleen — he's bleeding inside and we can't stop it."

"YOU HAVE TO STAY! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! PLEASE!"

Lee startled awake, feeling what sounded suspiciously like a sob clogging his throat. Frak, it was ridiculous. He didn't act like this. He _never_ had.

But there was too much. There was just too much.

He willed himself to calm down, to try and get his breath back before he woke Kara. She could hate it all she wanted, but she needed the rest right now. When they met in the _Astral Queen_ 's mess hall this morning, she'd looked like hell, and he hadn't hesitated to tell her so. At least she had laughed. But she also hadn't eaten much — not as much as Lee thought she should.

A morning spent hiking at a brisk pace — brisk even for Lee — through the dense bush of Kobol hadn't helped matters at all (nor had a brief firefight with some marauding Cylon Centurions), and by the time the group agreed that a midday break was in order, Kara seemed ready to drop. Lee had taken pity on her and put up their tent while she reclined against a nearby tree, making acidic remarks about his technique and threatening to help him at every turn. But when he'd looked back to tell her the tent was ready, he saw that she had fallen fast asleep.

Now, as he pulled himself to a sitting position, he could see nothing had changed. Kara was on her side covered by a heat-seal blanket, looking for all the worlds as though she'd passed out. It was somewhat amusing that something as human and biological as pregnancy could fell the mighty Starbuck. But only somewhat. Mostly, he felt a little sorry for her.

Lee checked his watch. Almost an hour had gone by since everyone made the decision to stop, and he knew they'd need to move on soon. Outside the tent, rain was still sheeting down. The group had traveled in rain this morning, but it sure wasn't pleasant. He hoped for everyone's sake, but especially for Kara's, that Laura Roslin could at least wait until this storm passed. The last thing Kara needed was to catch her death of cold out here.

He sighed, still trying to shake off a disturbing series of dreams, wishing there was some outlet for all his thoughts. Lee had figured nothing could top his father getting shot and the series of events that had followed. But, as usual, he'd been wrong.

Of all the things he believed Kara was hiding when she returned from Caprica — and knowing her, there were quite a few — a pregnancy had been absolutely at the bottom of the list. Lee still had no idea where the calm, reserved, rational side of him had come from. Somehow, he was able to discuss options with her, put his own misgivings and fears aside, and not give any hints as to what _he'd_ prefer to do.

Maybe that was because he didn't have a preference in the first place. He had felt a certain amount of warmth and pride upon learning that the child was his, but as usual, the worries had then started to take over. The worries _and_ the fears.

Gods be damned if Lee Adama wasn't scared shitless right now.

If he'd been able to get a little distance from the situation, Lee might have concluded that the universe was trying to have some fun at his expense. After all, hadn't he just _been_ through this whole thing? He'd gone through it, and he supposed he didn't exactly make the conscientious decision back then. In an ironic sort of way, he had behaved like Kara, and run from what was frightening him, what he'd felt he wasn't ready for. So many people acted like parenthood was just a piece of cake, like you could do it effortlessly and still have time for a career and a life of your own and everything else that was important. But Lee knew from bitter experience that this wasn't the case. His own personal father had tried that, and it hadn't worked. It turned his mother into a drunk, and her older son into a full-time, live-in babysitter.

More than a babysitter. More like, oh, a second father.

It had been Lee who taught his little brother to ride a bicycle. Lee who had packed his brother's lunches, checked his brother's backpack for notes from the teacher, forged his mother's signature on Zak's report cards. Lee reminded Zak to brush his teeth, read him a bedtime story, and tucked him in. It had been to Lee, rather than to their mother, that Zak had run when he'd had a nightmare. (It helped that they shared a room, but still.) Caroline pitched in whenever she could, whenever she was sober. But she was never sober enough.

And their father? Forget it. He was always off pursuing the next move up the career ladder, and his shore leaves never came quite often enough. They came even less often after the Adama parents split.

It had almost been a relief for Lee when he left home, although that had lessened to a degree when he entered military school. His family name was like a weight on his shoulder applying continuous pressure. He was expected to excel in all subjects, to live up to the image of the great Husker, but if he managed to overachieve, it was no big deal because William Adama did it first. Lee thought he might suffocate under the strain. Sometimes, he still believed that.

He had spent his whole life doing the responsible thing, following responsible paths. Once he finished military school, serving aboard various battlestars had been the great equalizer. There were expectations for _everybody_. _Everyone_ chafed under the same kind of pressure. It was an odd form of relief for him, and it continued to be so after Zak's death. Lee had taken refuge in routine, putting his innate workaholic habits to good use.

Sitting here now on Kobol, watching the smooth rise and fall of Kara's shoulders as she slept, he again felt a heavy sense of responsibility settling around him. He hadn't been ready to accept it when Gianne told him she was pregnant, and he didn't know if he was ready now. Somehow, he doubted it. And Gianne hadn't been a serious girlfriend. She was funny, smart, she loved pyramid, and she was president of the debate team at her university. Lee enjoyed hanging around with her, and he enjoyed what they did after hours even more. But looking at Kara, comparing what he felt for her to what he'd felt for Gianne, he knew there was _no_ comparison.

He loved Kara. Even though she didn't want to hear it, even though it scared her, he loved her.

So where did that leave them?

Lee had certainly been telling the truth when he told her he hadn't believed their relationship would get this serious this fast. But a _baby_ , that was an entirely different level of serious. That was … settling down serious. Building a family serious. Marriage serious.

His head dropped into his hands. Lords, what had he gotten himself into?

Yet, he couldn't run out on her. There was no way, not when they shared living space and flew together and fought together and ate together. And this was _Kara_. She was more than just a casual partner and it would be foolish of him not to acknowledge this. But he didn't want the additional responsibility of being a parent right now. More accurately, he was scared of it. Kids were so unpredictable. He'd never related well to them, with the possible exception of Zak. They were always doing something they shouldn't, running off, disobeying you, eating the wrong foods. They cried, they screamed, and they smelled. Usually all three at the same time.

But Kara's child … another part of him could practically see her impish grin mirrored on a miniature face, a boy or girl who was a perfect mix of Starbuck and Apollo, a giggling infant cradled in Kara's arms. He could see himself with the child in his arms, introducing him or her to his father. Dad would have a granddaughter or grandson …

"Gods …"

Lee jerked out of his daydream. At his side, Kara was waking. "Hey. You okay?" he asked, brushing his fingers through her hair.

"Gotta … find that lizard," she muttered, stretching and yawning.

"Huh?"

"The one that slept in my mouth last night."

He chuckled. "Yeah, you were out of it, all right. But you had a good sleep."

"Depends on your viewpoint." Kara raised herself up slowly, gathering the heat seal blanket around her shoulders. "Are we moving out soon?"

"Probably not until the storm passes," Lee told her. "It's coming down pretty hard out there."

"Didn't stop Roslin earlier," she mumbled.

He glanced at her again, scrutinizing her closely. "You look pale."

"I told you not to take care of me, Lee," Kara snapped, beginning to pull herself over to where he'd stashed their supplies. "I'm — _fine_."

Lee bit back his next question, which had rushed up to his mouth in record time. _Are you sure?_ She certainly didn't sound sure, and she didn't look it either. Sweat was beading on her brow, and she kept swallowing, her throat working visibly as she searched his pack for … something.

"What are you looking for?"

Instead of answering, Kara glanced quickly toward the door, at the rain still coming down. "Frak," she muttered, extracting what appeared to be a piece of plastic. Lee recognized it as part of the clear sheet he'd wrapped some of their provisions with, to keep them dry. What was she doing?

Then, without further ceremony, Kara leaned forward and was violently sick, vomiting what looked like most of her meager breakfast into the plastic. Lee hurried to her side, not difficult in the small tent, and held her hair back, murmuring words intended as comfort. He felt completely inadequate.

"Sorry you had to see that," she whispered after.

"Hey, you think I've never seen you throw up before?" he asked softly. "Remember Colonial Day?"

"Yeah." Kara wiped her mouth, then choked and coughed some more. "Frakkin' morning sickness can't tell time."

"That's what it is?" Lee had never had much cause to be around pregnant women — besides Gianne, and they'd broken up as soon as she informed him of the pregnancy. She hadn't been ill around him. "The baby does this to you?"

"Pretty, isn't it?" She rolled her eyes and leaned back, not seeming to notice that this new position placed her directly in his arms. "Hormones or something, Gods only know. I'm sure Cottle will read me the riot act about shit like that soon as we get back."

His own stomach flipped uncomfortably. "I guess we should probably talk more about what we're going to do."

"Lee —" Kara began tiredly, but before she could go on, the tent flap opened and Laura Roslin peered in.

"I apologize for the disturbance, but I just wanted to let you both know that we'll be moving on in ten minutes, if the rain hasn't stopped by then," the president told them. (Lee noticed Kara quickly moving the soiled plastic out of sight.) "We'll take five minutes to pack up the supplies, but that's it. I'd very much like to reach the Tomb before nightfall."

"Understood, Madame President," Lee said. "We'll both be ready."

Roslin smiled, but her eyes found Kara, who was still sweaty and pale in Lee's arms. "Lieutenant Thrace, are you feeling unwell?"

"Just a small stomach bug." Lee stepped smoothly into the breach. "They didn't exactly get first-class fare back on Caprica. She thinks she might have eaten something that went bad."

"Ah. Well, I hope you recover soon. We'll be setting a brisk pace." With that, the president put the tent flap down and headed away to the right.

"Thanks for the save," Kara murmured, after they were sure Roslin had gone.

"No problem." Impulsively Lee dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head. "I figured it wasn't something you'd want to broadcast."

"Hardly." She turned, pressing her cheek into his chest, and he couldn't resist a tiny smile. "Got any water left? That food tastes even worse the second time."

Lee reached around to the packs, drawing out a water bottle and pressing it into her hand. "Oh, so that's what they're calling that stuff they served in the mess hall this morning? Food? I would never have known."

Kara actually laughed as she raised the bottle to her lips. "Yeah, food. Weird, huh?"

"Very." He draped one arm around her, pulling her closer when she didn't protest. On the contrary, Kara seemed to be enjoying the contact; her breathing became more even and some of the colour returned to her cheeks after a moment or two. She let him complete the embrace after she set the bottle down, and it was so good just to hold her, to remember how she felt and to sense the rhythm of her breathing, the way her hands rested on his. Lee could forget everything when they were like this. He could forget the dreams he'd had, the sight of his father falling back onto the command table with blood pooling beneath him, even that last horrible argument with Kara on the hangar deck before she jumped back to Caprica. She comforted him just with her presence, relaxed him with her nearness.

They stayed that way until the rustle of activity made itself heard outside, the rest of the group getting ready to resume their little nature walk.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of the Kobol arc, from Kara's point of view this time. The chapter itself is a bit shorter and the next one a little longer, but there weren't really any other convenient places to break these.

The journey didn't seem any easier after the break, but Kara reflected that at least she'd had some sleep, however short that period of rest might have been. She had tried her best not to succumb to the nausea in front of Lee again, but as had happened so often over the last couple of months, there was no choice. Sometimes bodies overrode even the strictest commands given out by the minds assigned to them, and Kara's had made it clear that it couldn't hold out. Really, it had been sort of cute the way he had rushed to help her.

And lying in his arms afterward … gods, that felt good.

She knew her mind was all over the map now when it came to Lee. She still wanted to protect him, to shield him from the inevitable disasters that were part and parcel of associating with Kara Thrace, but part of her had begun to wonder whether _she_ could survive that. The only thing the Colonial Day incident had taught her was that cutting off all association with Lee Adama would be far harder than she had ever suspected. He might be protected, but she would probably end up destroying herself in the process. She'd tried to rid herself of him on Caprica, and that had been patently unsuccessful. Now, Kara had no idea what her next move ought to be.

There was the baby, too. Gods, why did everything have to be so frakking _complicated?_ She got the sense that Lee was a bit scared of kids too, which, oddly enough, reassured her. She'd figured he would be excited, that he might even try to pressure her one way or another, attempt to sway her into keeping the kid rather than getting rid of it as her first instincts had demanded. But he hadn't. Instead, he'd just calmly discussed options with her, and had not indicated what he himself might prefer.

She had seen the fear in his eyes, though, and she wondered about it. Was it just that Lee had never been around kids much, or was it something else?

Seemed like she wasn't the only one hiding things.

Kara was glad in a way that she had all these thoughts to occupy her. She considered herself to be in good physical shape, but she had just spent almost a week lying in a hospital bed recovering from a gunshot wound, and she was sure she'd lost weight. Thinking kept her from focusing on the physical issues. It kept her from remembering how tired she was, and it allowed her to ignore the ever-present nausea — she had ducked off the trail only once, to cough up the remaining water in her stomach, and Lee had covered for her then, too. She was inexpressibly grateful.

He stuck close to her, but to his credit, did not ask how she was feeling or otherwise draw attention to her physical condition. He knew her too well.

During one of her more energetic moments, Kara had made her way up to Roslin's side to tell her about Sam and the resistance, and to ask permission to take a squadron back to Caprica and mount a rescue mission. She wasn't exactly sure when she'd be able to accomplish this, and she knew she'd also need the Old Man's consent, but this was a start.

Or at least, she'd thought it was. The president had flatly refused to entertain Kara's questions, claiming that getting to the Tomb of Athena was her sole focus at the moment, and she wanted no distractions. Kara supposed she could understand, given how much extra energy it took _her_ to get anything done these days, but at the same time, she was disappointed. She'd believed that planting the seed of the idea as soon as possible was the best way to ensure proper results, but that couldn't work if Roslin wouldn't even listen to her. Sullen and sulky, Kara retreated to the back of the line, and did not answer Lee when he asked what she'd been talking to the president about.

It was midafternoon now. They'd started early, even before standard reveille on _Galactica_ , and Kara was beginning to feel the strain of the hours now. She wished they would stop for another break, but did not want to appear weak in front of Roslin or Zarek. Or, for that matter, Lee. Lords knew she had been weak enough around him today. So she didn't speak up. She simply kept her eyes on her feet, so as to avoid stepping on loose rocks or roots, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

Suddenly, Kara became aware that Lee was no longer next to her. She looked back to see that he'd stopped, his gaze fixed on a spot to his left.

"Psst! Starbuck!"

And she heard it too: a distinct rustling in the brush. Quickly Kara tapped the shoulder of the person ahead of her, Meier, and motioned to the side. The group moved hurriedly off the trail, and Kara readied her gun. If they were going to be surprised by Cylons again, she didn't want to be caught unprepared.

"Lie low," Kara whispered, sinking to a crouch behind a nearby tree. Beside her, Lee did the same.

They waited, weapons cocked, breath panting out in the nervous silence. Kara frowned. Tactically, this wasn't a great position. The foliage provided some cover, but it would be hardly adequate if bullets started flying. If only there was a hill, or some kind of promontory nearby … but she couldn't see anywhere else they could go, not with the bushes rustling again and their adversary about to burst onto the trail …

And then it didn't matter anymore.

It didn't matter because a group of humans emerged suddenly from the trees and there was a moment of confusion, everyone pointing their guns at each other, the Caprica standoff all over again. Kara sucked in an amazed breath. Before her was the Commander, restored fully to health, and farther beyond she could see Chief Tyrol and the president's assistant lurking.

"Put down your weapon, Captain," Adama said quietly.

She turned just in time to see an expression of mute shock on Lee's face. His fingers were trembling slightly when he re-holstered his gun, and he bit his lip as he took one tentative step forward, then another, until he was wrapped in his father's arms. Kara thought she could see his shoulders shaking, and a tear glistening on Adama's cheek … but it might have been a trick of the light.

She made a mental note to ask Lee exactly what had happened with his father later.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally parted, and the Commander stepped towards Kara.

There were so many things she wanted to say … apologies, truths, promises made to both herself and to others … but they jumbled in her mind, and she couldn't think. Adama touched her cheek, a warm smile lifting his features. She was suddenly reminded of Zak, of how he used to wear that precise same expression when he looked at her sometimes, and it was not one of romantic love but instead of respect, of understanding.

The baby would be Zak's niece or nephew. Somehow that hadn't occurred to her until now. She'd thought about the child having his eyes, maybe some of the features that were common to both him and Lee, but not specifically the relationship between them. If she chose to carry to term, the child could be another Adama. There were so few members of that family left … and the two who still survived had taken her in, befriended her, cared about her. She cared for them too … the elder like her father, the younger something far more complex. She had drawn immeasurable strength from them. Was she strong enough to carry on their line?

Kara jerked herself back to the present in time to see the Chief draw his weapon with a gasp and point it directly at Sharon. "Oh my gods — Commander? Commander!" Tyrol exclaimed.

Adama turned, and Kara suddenly remembered what Lee had shouted back on the _Astral Queen_.

 _"That thing put two rounds into my father's chest!"_

"She's with us, Commander!" Helo insisted.

But Adama wasn't listening. In one smooth motion he had darted forward and grabbed Sharon around the neck, knocking them both to the ground. Confusion reigned again as weapons were drawn, orders and questions shouted. Kara and Lee hurried simultaneously for the centre of the struggle, Kara praying that Lee wouldn't take his father's side, expecting that he probably would. Sharon might have proven her worth to the team — she had certainly proven her worth to Kara — but Kara couldn't believe that Lee would let this go.

"Commander, no!" she shouted. "No!"

"Get off me!" Sharon cried.

"Commander, please don't — we need her!" Roslin added.

" _Sir!_ " Helo was still exclaiming.

Karl looked about to drag Adama off by force, but suddenly all the fight seemed to go out of the Commander — the fight, and the desperation. He collapsed on top of Sharon, wheezing, his features ashen and sweaty, exhaustion permeating his frame. Lee, almost as pale as his father, quickly took him into his arms, murmuring soothing platitudes.

Sharon massaged her bruised throat. "And you ask why," she whispered acidly.

Kara was stunned. Not only at Adama's reaction, but at how weak and frail he seemed. She'd always seen the Old Man as a paragon of strength. They all _called_ him the Old Man, though in truth he was anything but; he always radiated quiet energy and determination. She hadn't seen him panic or lose his cool, not even at the height of the attacks when information was so scarce and the consequences of making an incorrect decision so dire. To witness his collapse, his loss of focus, his loss of face … it seemed _wrong_. Like that was somehow too private. Even as she knelt beside Lee and put an arm around him to offer support as he tried to soothe his father, she felt like an interloper. An intruder upon the family grief.

She didn't like it. She didn't like being this way.

Why couldn't everything go back to normal? To the way it had been before?

All this newness was frightening, with Lee alternating between angry and caring, Adama so weak, and Kara in a position she had never been before. She was an outsider, but also inextricably linked to them, now by genetics as well as circumstance. The baby was that link.

Kara compartmentalized as she always had, and carried on.

What else could she do?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third and final part of the Kobol arc.

"Lee, what happened before? When I was on Caprica?"

It was the question he'd been dreading, chiefly because he had no idea how he could even begin to answer it. The memories were still too fresh, and Dad's return had dragged them straight back to the surface. Kara needed to know, that much was clear, and she probably should hear it from him. But he wished there was some way to tell her other than going through the whole painful story right from the beginning.

Lee gazed around, leaning back against the canvas wall of the tent, feeling her warm weight near him. It was reassuring, somehow. The group had stopped for another break to allow everyone time to recover from the latest surprise, and although he suspected Kara needed to sleep again — there were dark circles under her eyes — she had chosen not to, instead lying with her head in his lap, her hands twisted around one of his. She was stroking his fingers one by one, almost massaging them, soothing the myriad small cuts and scrapes and bruises he'd collected.

"It's … complicated," he said in answer to her question, stifling a sigh.

"Yeah, right, Lee. If you get to try and to cheer me up and hear all the shit that's happened to me, I get to do the same for you."

Lee sighed. She had him there. He wanted to protest that, aside from the pregnancy, he hadn't heard _anything_ of what had gone on while she was on Caprica, but he knew it wasn't the time.

He squeezed her hand; she squeezed back.

"Well …" Lee took a breath, drew strength from seeing his father sitting in the tent across the way, talking quietly with Roslin. "He was shot. Right in CIC, right in front of everyone. We sent Boomer and Racetrack to blow up the basestar orbiting Kobol, because we needed to get Tyrol and everyone back. As you know. They took a Raptor that Gaeta had fitted with a Cylon transponder just like you'd planned. And it worked. Whole thing went off without a hitch. Huge explosion, basestar was history, they got out safely and came back to _Galactica_. Dad called them up to CIC to congratulate them."

Kara brought his hand to her mouth and kissed his fingers, one by one.

"They both looked so excited," he went on. "Proud, too. I would have congratulated them too, but the Marines had me under guard. Tigh was outraged, of course. If he'd had his way, gods only know what would have happened. He probably would have shoved me out an airlock himself."

"Bastard," she muttered, and this time he didn't reprimand her.

Lee swallowed. "Anyway … Boomer pulled out her gun, her sidearm, and she fired … two shots, straight into his chest. He fell back on the command table, there was blood everywhere. The Marines grabbed Boomer. We all just kept yelling for the medics. Tigh was applying pressure, trying to keep the blood inside, but it wasn't working. And once they took him away, I wanted to go with him to sickbay, but … he wouldn't let me, he insisted that I had to be taken to the brig. I spent hours there, and I didn't know — I didn't know if he was alive or dead —"

He abruptly cut himself off. A clench had risen into his throat, and a film of moisture across his vision prevented him from glancing again to Dad's tent. He wouldn't look at Kara. He couldn't.

"Hey. Lee." Her touch was moving up his arm, to his shoulder, and next second she had embraced him. "It's okay. It's over. He's fine, he made it, remember?"

Lee didn't answer. He supposed in a way that he was probably due for this, for some kind of breakdown. Almost everyone he knew had had one at one point or another since the original Cylon attacks. That was just one of the ways human beings dealt with the trauma. Some had put it off, but eventually it caught up to you. Lee had deferred so much emotion over the last three months, had borrowed so much strength with the promise of _later_ as his collateral, and now the bank was calling in the loan.

But that didn't mean he had to like it.

Kara's grip tightened around him and he realized his cheek was pressed to her wet hair. The wetness came from him, and there were more tears trickling down. Gods, this was stupid, and he _knew_ it was stupid, but he couldn't seem to stop. He waited for Kara to tell him to quit being dumb, but she didn't. She just kept holding him, hugging him, tracing slow circles on his back.

Lee wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. It was probably minutes, likely about five, but it felt like much more, and he savoured every bit of that time. This was what he'd wanted when she was away. He had wanted them to find solace in each other's embrace, to lend each other strength through all the various crises, and while it hadn't worked out exactly as he had hoped, the most important thing was that she was back now.

He breathed in, sniffled, and winced at how ridiculous he sounded. But Lee did feel better. The pain in his chest seemed to have eased, along with the mist coating his eyes. It didn't hurt so much now.

"Hey." Kara pulled back to look at him. "Better?"

"Yeah," Lee admitted, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. "I just — well — thanks, Kara." He paused, glanced down again. "I didn't exactly mean to lose it like that."

"It happens, all right?" Her smile was uncharacteristically gentle. "With all these frakking hormones, I probably would've been the same if I was there."

He knew that wasn't true, that she was likely just saying it to make him feel better, but he smiled anyway. He _did_ feel better after hearing it, in a strange sort of way. And this was the closest they'd been, face-to-face, since she had jumped away to Caprica. That felt good, too.

Lee thought afterward that it was perhaps this that made him close the gap between them, cup her face in his hands and kiss her softly. In the moment, though, he didn't much care to analyze his motivations. All he knew was that she was _here_ , right in front of him, and he loved her just as much as he had on Colonial Day, if not more. Of course, he wasn't going to _say_ so, not after the disastrous last encounter, but … maybe he could show her instead.

She didn't resist, and soon opened her lips, granting him entrance, deepening the kiss. Her fingers were on his cheek, and they brushed away the last of the wetness lingering there. Lee smiled against her mouth. Oh, he was in so much trouble.

Kara pressed in, her hands everywhere now. Stroking, touching, feeling, squeezing, seeming to grow almost frantic with need. She was kissing him fiercely now, desperately.

"Whoa!" Lee yelped as fingers came in contact with a very sensitive — and rapidly swelling — part of his anatomy. "Kara, we — we don't know how much t-time we have, and anyone could s-see us —"

"You started it," she accused with a grin, her cheeks flushed.

"Yeah, but —"

Kara reached over, tugging the tent flap closed and plunging them into semi-darkness. "Nobody has to know. It'd be quick and dirty. Just like old times, Lee, and you sure didn't have a problem with it then. That's what got us into this godsdamned mess, remember?"

"Speaking of which, what if — what if I hurt you? Or the …" He bit his lip, forcing the word out around his nervousness. "Or the baby. What then? We don't even know if this is safe!"

"Look, it's barely bigger than a grain of rice now, okay?" She was stripping off her C-Bucs jacket, fumbling with the button of her cargoes. "And unless you've got a dick the size of a battering ram, which we both know full well you don't, there's no way in hell you'll even be able to touch it. Now, c'mon. It's just as easy for me to stick my finger down my pants and get myself off. Skip the middleman."

Lee blinked, feeling vaguely as though he'd just been insulted. But he also knew there was no way he could resist her half-naked before him. He wouldn't even bother trying. "All right, but if somebody comes in and I have to walk twenty miles to the Tomb of Athena with a raging hard-on —"

"Then it'll be fun," Kara interrupted, her grin expanding. "I'll pull you over during one of our breaks. Jerk you off behind a tree." She shimmied forward and put her arms around him.

His brain cheerfully supplied a vivid image of precisely what she was describing and he grew almost painfully hard, his pants suddenly far too tight.

Kara licked her lips, a gesture now intimately familiar to him. "Is that the Arrow of Apollo in your pants or are you just glad to see me?" she wisecracked.

He would have laughed, but she had pulled down his zipper and was reaching inside. Lee stifled a gasp as cool fingers wrapped around him, stroking languidly, tracing the underside of his cock, cupping him gently. Kara's lips touched his and Lee's eyes flew abruptly open; he hadn't even realized they were squeezed shut.

She kissed him soundly, all the while continuing to stroke down and up, teasing her thumb over the head. Lee thrust clumsily upward, unable to get proper purchase against the tent but seeking the extra friction all the same. Warmth spread through his abdomen, and he knew he needed to stop her quickly. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

"Kara," Lee groaned, fumbling for her hand, "wait, wait, just …" Her fingers stilled, closed tight around him, and he nearly came undone right there. "I need you … please … _please_ …"

"You'll ruin your pants if I don't, anyway," she snickered, but the smart remark was somewhat spoiled by the breathy quality of her voice. Clearly, Kara was enjoying this just as much as he was.

Lee bit his tongue hard as she lowered herself on top of him, inch by torturous inch. Using her knees as leverage, Kara moved up and then slid abruptly back down, and the warmth was back, rising, rising, his balls tightening in unmistakable warning. Quickly he placed his hands on her hips, stilling her, and gasped air into his protesting lungs. She was so wet and tight and _gods_ , he couldn't handle it, not yet.

"Just wait," Lee whispered, willing himself to recover a modicum of calm. The heat was melting, but slowly.

"No stamina, Lee." Kara _tsk_ ed. "I'm disappointed!"

He wanted to make a sarcastic rejoinder, to point out that since it had been so long since they'd done this, it was only natural for him to go to pieces, but there wasn't nearly enough blood getting to his brain for him to formulate the words. So instead he replied, "Well, what about you?"

"What about me?" She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

"Well, don't you need … something?" Lee reached out his hand, heading for her breasts, and looked up in surprise when she batted him away.

"No way, flyboy, these are strictly look-but-don't-touch right now."

He knew he must look comically crestfallen. "Why?"

Kara leaned in close. "'Cause they're so sore that if you lay so much as a finger on 'em, I will neuter you with my bare frakking hands. Clear?"

Lee winced. "Uh. Crystal."

"It's the kid." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You're creative, Apollo, figure something out."

In answer he smiled and went further, down to where they were joined, gently rubbing her clit. She arched with surprising fervor, gasping, so he did it again, made soft circles against the hard little nub. Kara was moving again, sliding him inside and out as she had before, but this time he didn't mind. The heat was a slow warm burn within him, the desperation much less of a factor, and Lee knew he'd be able to hold out until she was ready.

His only remaining worry now was the noise. Kara had never exactly been silent during sex, and in a situation like this, her typical string of shouted encouragements and profanities would be a dead giveaway as to what they were doing. Lee might as well have hung a neon sign outside the tent. She wasn't yelling now, but she wasn't totally quiet, either. Each time he thrust up she moaned — not loudly, but it was still a moan. All worries were driven from his mind, however, when Kara crashed abruptly into her climax and gasped open-mouthed against his chest, " _Lee — oh gods, Lee —_ "

Lee had heard it before, but somehow it sounded so much better now … desperate, filled with longing … and he could allow himself to believe, for just a moment, that she needed him. The impenetrable Starbuck, who claimed in public to require no one, _needed him_. She was still shaking, pressed to him, sweat drying on her skin, and that erotic image was finally his undoing.

They held each other as pleasure strobed through him, as he pumped his hips once and shot warmth inside her. Kara kissed him gently, languidly, like they hadn't a care in the worlds, like they never would.

Lee came down slowly, slumped against the tent canvas. "I hope nobody heard that."

"Nah." She shook her head and sat back beside him, leaning on his shoulder. "Ten cubits says Helo and Sharon are doing the exact same thing in the next tent. They won't hear a frakkin' thing."

"Gross, Kara." He made a face. "Don't be a buzzkill."

"You get used to it," Kara shrugged. "Days of wandering around with them on Caprica, they were kind of sweet, actually. He loves her."

"I just don't understand it," Lee muttered as he re-zipped his pants. "That thing is a machine. It's not a person. And whatever it thinks it feels for Agathon is programming and software and silica pathways lighting up. That's _all_. I couldn't forgive what those toasters have done long enough to look at one, let alone touch it."

"Helo loves her. He loves her and he defends her. You've seen that yourself. And I don't think _his_ feelings are programming, Lee."

"Yeah, that Cylon has him pretty well hoodwinked." His good mood had evaporated, but he tried not to show it. People were moving outside the tent, and he needed to repack their supplies. "Wonder how it managed that. Bribery, maybe?"

"She's carrying his child," said Kara softly. "To Helo, that's motivation enough."

" _What?_ " Lee spun. "How is that even _possible?_ They're machines! Machines can't have babies!"

"Somehow she can." Kara pulled her tanks back on, beginning to get dressed again.

"Well, your friend must be even more gullible than I thought, then," Lee said unkindly. He knew he was being rude and hateful, but he couldn't help it. "To actually believe he impregnated a Cylon — that's frakking rich. You'd have to be totally brainless to think —"

She surged forward suddenly and grabbed his arm, her eyes black and fierce. "Helo is a good guy," Kara snapped frostily. "He is my friend. And he is also the only reason you know about your kid now instead of finding out after I'd already gone to Cottle and gotten rid of it. Or never finding out at all. But Helo convinced me that wasn't right. He convinced me to go back to you even after all the frakked-up shit that's happened between us."

Lee realized his mouth was hanging open and closed it quickly. "I — I didn't know …"

"Well, now you do." She zipped her jacket and shouldered the Arrow's container. "So try and show a little respect next time. _Sir_."

With that, Kara ducked under the tent flap and was gone without a backwards glance.

He sighed. There was no choice but to pick up his pack, holster his sidearm, and follow.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since there aren't any precise canonical timelines in the BSG 'verse (i.e. nothing to say "three weeks passed between this episode and that episode" or "six days passed between Episode A and Episode B"), I will be somewhat stretching and compressing the timeline to suit the needs of this fic. Don't worry, though; it should still make sense at the end of the day, and I will always alert you in my author's note as to how much time has passed if it isn't mentioned in the text. This takes place about a week after the events of "Home, Part 2".

There were seventeen cracks in the sickbay ceiling.

Kara knew because she'd counted them all, twice, while she was waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Frakking doctors. They'd name an appointment time and not show up for half an hour after it, but if _you_ arrived even a second late, they'd chew your ear off for inconveniencing them. Plus, they tended to ask all kinds of stupid and uncomfortable questions. She had dealt with that part of it since she was a kid.

Speaking of uncomfortable … she shifted on the bed, trying to adjust her gown so it covered her more thoroughly. No luck; the one Ishay had handed her was about three sizes too small. Her feet and legs were frozen, and she wished she could be just about anywhere else. But no, she had to do the responsible thing.

Frak responsibility. It was already proving to be more trouble than it was worth.

After their return from Kobol — where they had successfully opened the Tomb of Athena using the Arrow, and discovered the complex network of constellations that would supposedly lead them to Earth — the first thing Kara had done was to book a doctor's appointment. She knew she needed to confirm what the Cylons had found at the Farm, and to make a final decision about what to do. Kara still didn't have the foggiest idea what that decision should be. She knew she should talk with Lee again, but that wasn't exactly a conversation she relished having. She hadn't invited him to the appointment.

A wave of nausea rose in her throat, and she hoped she wouldn't have to excuse herself to go be sick again. That was almost the worst part about this whole thing. She could handle hangover-sick. Hangovers were totally different, since at least you got to have some fun beforehand. This was just plain disgusting. She'd eaten a full breakfast this morning because she was so ravenously hungry she couldn't stand it, only to puke it all up in the head an hour later. At least Lee hadn't been there this time, hovering, acting like a frakkin' mother hen. He was driving her nuts. Which was another reason she didn't tell him about the doctor's appointment.

Kara sighed and began to count the ceiling cracks again. _One, two, three, four, five …_ it certainly kept her mind off all the other crap. If only she didn't have to think about any of it, at all.

"So, Lieutenant Thrace." Cottle had finally come around into the little cubicle, clutching a file folder. "To what do I owe this dubious honour?"

"Ha ha," she said sarcastically, then paused. "I, um …"

"Speak up, I'm a doctor, not a mind reader!" he barked.

She was well used to his bedside manner, or lack thereof, but it sure wasn't making this any easier.

"Look, young lady, I've got a lot of work to do," Cottle told her as she tried to gather up courage. "Now, if you've just come here to waste my time —"

"I think I'm pregnant," Kara blurted out.

"Ah." The doctor lit a fresh cigarette. "I see. And what exactly tipped you off to this blessed event?"

She bit her lip, not wanting to go through the events on Caprica again. "Symptoms, I guess. All the usual ones you hear about. Getting tired, gaining weight, being sick all the time, no period … that kind of crap."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first one, and you won't be the last. I'm assuming by the way you're talking that there's a legitimate chance — you've had intercourse during a fertile period, correct?"

"I was on the shots." Kara shifted, making the paper underneath her crinkle.

"Yeah, you were on the shots, but that doesn't mean shit if you don't keep up with 'em," Cottle reminded her. "And according to these records, you didn't."

"And whose fault is that?" She glared.

He shrugged. "Not mine. Blame the supply lines if you really want to blame somebody, but what's done is done. The most important thing now is to get you tested, confirm it, and then figure out if you want to keep it or not. Does the father know?"

Kara coughed; the nausea was returning. "Yeah. I told him."

Cottle chuckled, clearly disbelieving her. "You've got two options, Lieutenant: either you piss in a cup and I test that, or we take a blood sample. Either method only requires a few minutes for a result, and then we get to sit down and have a nice little chat. What's your pleasure?"

"Blood. Please." She fought not to grimace. "Do you have a head I can use?"

"Over there." He pointed. "I'll send Ishay to you first. Won't be a minute."

Thankfully he wasn't kidding about that, and the nurse was speedily efficient. Kara waited until Ishay had bustled away with the blood sample, then scrambled off the bed, holding the gown to her body as she dashed for the head. She didn't even have time to fully shut the door before leaning down and surrendering whatever the hell was left in her stomach. Gods only knew where her body was getting it all, but it was certainly giving her ample opportunity to curse Lee's name.

"Ishay, do you know where Doc Cottle is?"

 _Speaking of which …_ Kara sank down next to the toilet, wiping her mouth, feeling dizzy. What the hell was Lee doing down here? She'd thought he was up giving his interview to that reporter, Dina something or other, who'd been poking around. Apparently not.

"He's a little busy at the moment, unfortunately," Ishay answered. "Maybe I can help you?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm just dropping off these supply requisitions for him to look over. If he could have those back to me by sixteen hundred hours I'd really appreciate it."

"No problem, I'll tell him. You can leave them in his office, just at the end of the ward and to the left."

"Thanks, Ishay." She heard Lee's footsteps pounding past the door and lurched to her knees again, bending back over, her gown starting to slide off her shoulders as she retched. It was just bile now, disgusting bile. There was nothing in her stomach to come up.

"Kara, what's going on? What are you doing here?"

Suddenly he was behind her.

"What do you _think_ , Lee?" Kara snapped, whirling around. Her gown fell completely off now, exposing her to anyone who cared to look. "What the hell do you think?"

He didn't answer right away, instead bending to scoop up the gown and draping it back over her. "I don't know, why don't you tell me?"

"Do you have a death wish, Adama?" She glared. "Because if not I'd suggest you get the hell out of my sight!"

"Kara. Come on." Lee brushed her hair back from her face; it had come undone from the loose ponytail in which she'd tied it. "Don't play games with me. Is this about the baby?"

Kara opened her mouth for a sarcastic rejoinder (perhaps, she thought, a suggestion as to exactly where he could shove that sanctimonious attitude of his) but coughed instead, turning to spit rancid saliva into the toilet. Exhausted now, she sank back onto the floor, brushing sweat from her forehead. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a prick, Apollo?"

"I don't know, did anyone ever tell _you_ you're a masochist?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"You don't tell me about this appointment, you don't tell me you're going to find out about the baby, so I have to guess, and it's only by chance that I wind up coming down to sickbay now!" Lee sounded annoyed. "I could have helped you, I could have supported you, but I can't do any of that if you're not going to talk about these things!"

"Well, you'll forgive me for thinking you weren't very interested," Kara hissed. "You're _scared_ , Apollo, and don't even try to pretend like you aren't. When I first told you I thought you were gonna hurl!"

That look crossed his face again, the look she had come to associate with nervousness, fear. "Maybe so," Lee said through clenched teeth, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to walk out on you. You should know me by now, Kara, you should know I'm not that kind of person!"

"Whatever." She wasn't really in the mood to continue this conversation, and she needed to get back to Cottle anyway. At the last second Kara paused, turning in the head's doorway. "And by the way, Lee, _you_ should know _me_ by now. You should know that I am a screw-up. You should know that's what I do. You should know that other people can't always live up to your perfect image of the way things are. So while you're polishing off your frakkin' halo, keep that in mind."

"Kara, _no_." His footsteps were pounding behind her as she made her way back to the bed. "That's not good enough, that is nowhere near good enough! Not for now! Not for this! This is important, this isn't just you running away on Colonial Day! You can't run away from this!"

She threw herself back onto the bed, refusing to look at him. "Oh yeah? Watch me."

That stopped him cold. "You — you mean you've decided?"

"Who's the one who'll have to carry a frakking parasite for nine months, Lee? Who's the one puking her damn guts up every hour? Whose godsdamned _flight status_ will be revoked? Not yours! It's easy for you, you don't have to _do_ anything! You don't have to change your life! All of that is on me!" Kara knew she was yelling, but couldn't seem to stop. "So don't act like you have a right to dictate to me what I should do, because _you don't!_ "

"Do _not_ call it a parasite!" Lee bellowed back at the top of his lungs. "That is our _child_ you're talking about!"

" _I'll call it whatever the hell I —_ "

"Excuse me, Captain, Lieutenant, is this a private fight or can anybody join in?"

They jerked their heads up just in time to see Cottle peering around the corner, and the expression on his face shocked them both into silence.

"That's better," the doctor growled. "Now, are you two going to behave yourselves in my sickbay, or do I have to throw the captain out?"

"My apologies, sir," Lee said stiffly. "We just got a little carried away, that's all. Won't happen again."

Kara clenched her teeth, but nodded agreement.

"All right then." Cottle shuffled through some papers in his folder. "Now, the test results came through loud and clear. Congratulations, kids. You're going to have a baby."

She swallowed hard. The news was hardly a surprise, of course — merely a confirmation of what she had already suspected — but hearing it out loud like that, an actual fact from someone she trusted, was frightening nonetheless. Even worse, in a way, was Lee's presence; Kara had expected to be able to talk about her options with the doctor alone, free of any undue influence. She supposed she could ask him to leave, but really, what was the point? They'd need to fight about this sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.

"So — so she's definitely pregnant?" Lee asked nervously.

Cottle leveled a gaze at him. "She is definitely pregnant. I take it you're the lucky father?"

Lee coughed, and Kara could read the expression on his face as plainly as though he'd said the words. _That depends on your definition of lucky._ "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

"There's no guessing involved," the doctor told them, pulling the privacy curtain around the small cubicle. "The lieutenant has conceived, and it's up to both of you now to decide what you'd like to do. My job is to outline your choices, and then to leave you to it."

"And what are those choices?" Kara asked, ignoring Lee.

"The first and most obvious is, of course, to carry the baby to term and give birth," Cottle said. "Do that and you won't fly for at least eight more months — the remaining six of your pregnancy, and then six weeks afterward to allow your body time to recover. You'd need to lay off on the smoking and drinking, too. Eat well, sleep when your body tells you to and otherwise try to live as responsibly as you can."

"What else is there?" She kept her eyes fixed on the doctor.

"You could carry to term and then put the baby up for adoption —"

Kara shook her head. "I, um, I've already ruled that out. I think."

Cottle nodded. "Last but not least is to have an abortion. You'd come in, I'd give you a light anesthetic, and that would be it. You would bleed quite heavily for about a week afterwards and be forbidden from intercourse for six. I would also recommend getting on a reliable form of birth control that works for you and that isn't going to be subject to the possible vagaries of supply lines." He tapped the folder he was carrying. "With this option, though, there's a catch. I'd need an ultrasound to confirm this, but my guess based on the levels of hormones in your system is that you're about three months along. Now, the new procreation laws state that I can only perform this procedure if it occurs before the eighteenth week of gestation. Even then, any abortion after sixteen weeks is considered a special circumstance, and there are forms to fill out and all kinds of bureaucratic red tape. Meaning that if this option is what you want, we'd need to act a little more quickly. I'd need your decision within the next month."

"Understood."

"Wait a minute," Lee blurted out. "Don't I — doesn't the biological father have some say in this? She can't be the only one who gets to decide, you said so yourself!"

"Under the law, she is." The doctor fixed him with a stern glare. "One thing that's guaranteed is the right of the woman to make her own decision until eighteen weeks. You can discuss it with her, you can talk about it — hell, you can even argue about it so long as you don't do it here — but at the end of the day, the final choice rests with Lieutenant Thrace. And I'd advise you not to test the law on that point, not even if you're feeling brave."

"Of course." Lee looked away, chastened.

Kara glanced back to Cottle. "Thanks, doc. I'll get back to you, I guess. Anything else?"

"Just these." He handed her a bottle of pills. "Prenatal vitamins. I have some of the last supply left in the universe, so be damn careful with that. Take one a day with water, morning or evening, whichever suits you best. Try to time it for when you think you won't toss it back up. If you can. Otherwise, that's pretty much it."

"Yeah, right," she muttered. Wasn't like she could exactly _control_ the puking — it seemed to happen whenever it pleased. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get dressed."

Cottle nodded, then disappeared around the curtain. Only Lee was left, and they shared a glare.

"Come on, Starbuck, it's not like I haven't seen it all before," he told her.

"Whatever," Kara snapped. Her back to him, she began to tug on her clothes.

Lee was breathing in and out very slowly through his nose, something she knew he did when he was forcing himself to relax. "Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you, all right? I didn't mean to. But I really do think we should talk about this. You heard Cottle, he says we don't have very much time."

" _We?_ " she growled. "If you heard that, then you also must have heard him say that it was _my_ choice."

"What do you want from me, Kara?" he hissed, low and angry. "Why did you even tell me if all you were going to do was walk away and decide for yourself anyway? Why think I'd want to know but not that I'd want to be involved?"

She whirled to face him, furious. "Because you haven't exactly been _acting_ like it, okay? Every time I even mention it you start freaking out! It's like it's okay if you're the one talking about it, if you're the one figuring out what _we_ should do, but the second _I_ say anything I'm shutting you out! Godsdammit, Lee, it's _my_ body, _my_ life! _My decision!_ "

"That's exactly what I mean!" Lee said hotly. "You could've kept me out of it, run off to Cottle and 'gotten rid of it' just like you said you were going to, but you didn't! You told me! So you have to face facts, Kara, you have to realize it isn't just about you anymore! Look —" He jumped to his feet and took her hands in one smooth motion, before she could jerk away. "Maybe I _am_ scared. Maybe I _am_ worried. Maybe there's shit I haven't even told you about, stuff I'm trying to make up for — but you never ask, you've never tried to see this as something that concerns both of us! It does!"

"What the frak are you talking about?" demanded Kara, trying and failing to move away. "'Shit I haven't even told you about'? What the hell is that? Is it Zak? Because that first night in sickbay you told me —"

" _This has nothing to do with Zak!_ " he snapped in a purposefully soft whisper. "Well … okay, it does. It does and it doesn't. Sort of."

She pulled away and stuffed the vitamin bottle into the pocket of her hoodie. "When you want to start making sense, let me know. I'll be in the rec room."

"Kara —" The naked desperation in Lee's voice made her turn, unexpectedly. "Look … you're not the only screw-up, okay? I frak up sometimes too. And I did, and …"

"What are you saying, Lee?"

"Let's just try to talk about that civilly and calmly, in a place where the whole ship won't hear us, okay?" His tone was pleading. "The bunkroom maybe, I think everybody should be off-duty right about —"

" _Pass the word, Captain Adama to CIC … Captain Adama to CIC,_ " Gaeta's voice blared over the comms.

"Later, Apollo."

Kara pushed through the curtain, and was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

_Who the hell designs these things?_

Kara glared at the vitamin bottle. The label was pastel-coloured, and featured a smiling, bland mother bouncing a smiling, equally bland baby on her lap. Both were the picture of health, almost literally glowing. Above them the label read _Natural Pregnancy: For a healthier you, and a healthier future_.

"You're lucky I already puked," Kara told the vitamins sourly. "I'd sure as hell be doing it with this."

Reluctantly she tugged open the bottle and extracted a tablet, her eyes widening when she saw it was almost half the length of her little finger. _How the hell do they expect people to swallow_ these? _Last thing I want to do is gag down something that would choke a Virgon show horse._

The pills were necessary, of course. No matter what decision she finally made, Cottle was right. While she was unsure, she shouldn't deny her body the extra nutrition it was probably looking for. Never mind that it made her throw up every meal … if that wasn't the case, things would be a lot easier …

Quickly, before she could think about it, Kara shoved the pill in her mouth and guzzled down a glass of cool water, then another for good measure. Vitamins had funny aftertastes; she remembered that much from her spotty adherences to such a regime back in flight school. And with all the crap that was probably packed into this one, _its_ aftertaste would be even worse.

She stretched out in her rack, hoodie half-unzipped, curtain half-closed. Lee hadn't scheduled her into the flight rotations after they'd gotten back, and her fellow officers would surely start to notice soon. Never mind what the doctor had said about the law's restrictions — Kara knew she was working with a far smaller timetable. Gossip traveled fast on a battlestar and she wouldn't be surprised if half the ship already knew about the fight in sickbay. Word would get around … to Tigh … to the Commander. Kara covered her eyes and groaned at that. What the hell would Adama think? For one thing, if he chose to believe the rumours, he would be faced with irrefutable proof that she'd now bedded both of his sons. And even if he dismissed them as idle tongues wagging a bit too much, he'd then no doubt see that she wasn't flying CAPs anymore. Which would be confirmation enough.

Kara tried to imagine his reaction to her telling him, face to face. _Commander, Lee and I … Commander, Lee and I are having a baby. I'm having Lee's baby. We broke the frat regs and I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant, but not for much longer. Zak always wanted kids, but instead I frakked his brother and I'm having_ his _kid!_

And Lee's freaking out about it …

Well. Maybe that wasn't quite right. But Lee was certainly not himself these days. He was shorter with people, tended to yell more easily, and he wasn't sleeping. That fact she knew for sure. They'd been back from Kobol for about a week, and the only person with bags under their eyes bigger than hers was Apollo. Night after night she had heard him tossing and turning in his bunk. She'd thought of going to talk to him, but had always chickened out at the last minute.

What was with him, anyway? For the first time Kara understood what it must be like for Lee when she wouldn't open up to him. He had seemed to be on the verge of it, in sickbay, but then he'd been called to CIC. Typical bad timing. And she hadn't seen him since. It was hours later, time for bed, and she was exhausted, her back was sore and she felt disgusting and bloated. A conversation with that D'Anna Biers hadn't helped one little bit — what kind of reporter walked in on somebody in the gym?

Then again, she realized she should probably count herself lucky that Biers hadn't gotten wind of the rumours (which happened to be completely true) yet. _That_ was a top wireless news story if she had ever heard one.

Kara forced her mind back to Lee. Maybe it was just her own stereotyped image of him, but she had always thought he'd be one to jump at the idea of kids, of raising them, of kissing skinned knees better and reading bedtime stories. He would be better than _her_ , anyway. He seemed a more natural fit for the job. But from the way he was acting … Lee was afraid. She sensed definite fear there. But fear of _what?_ To the best of her knowledge, he didn't have the kind of past she'd had. His dad wasn't father of the year, sure, but she was relatively certain that Bill Adama hadn't ever locked either of his children in a closet for two days without food. Neither had their mother. Kara had met Caroline Adama a few times when she'd been dating Zak, plus once just before Zak proposed and once at his funeral, and she had seemed decent. A little strange, but decent.

So what the hell was Lee's hangup? He'd said it had something to do with Zak, but not exactly. _Something, but not exactly._ What the hell did that mean? How was she supposed to interpret it? What could his little brother have to do with having kids? No matter how much she tried to puzzle it out, no answer came to her.

Maybe she was just tired. Maybe something obvious was staring her in the face, and she just wasn't getting it.

Her eyelids were heavy, and Kara desperately wanted to sleep. Almost equally as desperately, she wanted to keep waiting for Lee. She didn't really want to _talk_ to him, but she also knew they were past due for a conversation. A _real_ conversation that didn't turn into a fight or a yelling match or some other confrontation.

Hell, was that even possible?

She was startled out of her stupor by the spinning of the hatch wheel, and then a clank as it opened. Kara didn't even dare to hope … but to her surprise, it was indeed Lee who stepped through, one hand trying to control a rather impressive case of helmet hair. His flight suit was knotted around his middle, suggesting he had just come off CAP, and she felt a pang of longing for her Viper, for being up in the air. If she decided to do this baby thing, flying would definitely be what she'd miss most.

"Hey," Kara whispered, mindful of the sleeping pilots surrounding her.

"Hey yourself," Lee said in surprise. "I, uh … I wasn't sure you'd be here."

She snorted. "Where the hell else am I supposed to be? Not a lot of places I can go while I'm grounded, you know."

"Yeah." He smiled sheepishly, leaning against his locker, just watching her.

Kara drew up courage. "Lee?"

"What?"

"I agree with you about one thing, all right?" She sat up, pulling her curtain out of the way. "We do need to … talk. About stuff. And it was stupid of me earlier, I should have paid attention when you were trying to tell me that."

"Yeah, well, since when have you ever listened to me?" They both chuckled. "Look, just give me a few minutes in the head to change, and we can go somewhere more private."

"And where we won't have to listen to you guys yakking all night," Helo put in from behind his curtain.

"Shut up, Karl," Kara said, but with affection.

Ten minutes later she was walking along a deserted corridor with Lee, the rec room their agreed-upon destination. They both knew there probably wouldn't be many people there — the pilots who'd been on CAP with Lee would want to head straight for their racks, and everybody else was either sleeping or on duty — so that was where they stood the best chance of having whatever passed for a private conversation on a battlestar.

"I really am sorry I couldn't be here sooner," Lee sighed as they walked. "We just finished a fifteen-hour rotation, and it looks like we'd better get used to it. We're gonna be short on pilots until the rest of the Fleet pulls the stick out of its collective fat ass."

Kara snickered. "More fallout from Tigh's moment of glory?"

"You heard about his death threat?"

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," she smirked. "I just can't believe that I haven't been called in for questioning yet."

He grinned at her. "Oh, you were top of the list. But don't worry, I told Tigh that you wouldn't know Caprican poetry if it was hot-soldered across your helmet."

Kara leaned in close to him, so close that she could smell the aftershave he'd just put on. It was delicious and clean and _Lee_. "'From the darkness you must fall/Failed and weak to darkness all," she quoted mischievously. "Kataris. Not one of his best."

Lee's mouth dropped open.

"Can I be a suspect again? Please?" Kara winked.

"I swear to gods, every time I think I know you …" He shook his head as they stepped inside the rec room. As they had hoped, it was abandoned.

Kara boosted herself up on one of the tables. "Hey pot, kettle's calling. 'Cause it seems like there's a hell of a lot of stuff _I_ don't know about _you_."

"Yeah. I guess so." Lee stuffed his hands into his pockets, started to walk around the room. He seemed too restless to take a seat.

She couldn't face beating around the bush.

"Lee, what's going on? What's _really_ going on? Because I need to know. If I am going to make this decision that is going to affect my — okay, _both_ of our lives — I need to know where your head is right now. I don't want any lies or doubletalk or crap, I need the truth. And if you aren't willing to give me that, then maybe my gut instinct was right. Maybe I _shouldn't_ have told you. Maybe you're not mature enough to handle it."

His shoulders stiffened, and for a second Kara was sure he was going to start shouting, try to fight with her.

But he didn't.

"Maybe you're right," Lee said at last.

"Excuse me?"

"I said maybe you're right. Maybe I'm not … well … I don't know."

She chewed her lower lip. "Want to talk about it?"

"Kara …" He was scrutinizing her, a funny look on his face. "How much did Zak tell you about his childhood? _Our_ childhood?"

"Um — a little bit, I guess." Kara blinked, thrown off-balance by the question. "He really looked up to you, Lee. He thought you and your dad hung the moons. And he said that you were like a second father to him, when the Old Man wasn't around. He said all of the good things he had inside of him, all of the compassion and strength, he got from you."

Lee turned away. "Yeah. Occasionally, Zeus would come down from Mount Olympus and mingle with us mere mortals. I respected my father, I guess I probably even loved him, but he was never there. And Mom couldn't hack that. She turned into a drunk. Not a mean drunk —" (Kara winced, remembering her own mother) "— but one who used alcohol to anesthetize herself from the world. She just wasn't _present_. My little brother would've gone to school dirty, holes in his clothes, no lunch in his pack, empty stomach with no breakfast, if I hadn't taken matters into my own hands. There's a reason he considered me his second father; it's because I _was_. Zak would get excited when Dad came home for shore leaves, and they always had a much closer bond than Dad and I did. I suppose I was just too bitter. And then once my old man left, it would be up to me again. Mom always promised to help out, and she always said she'd change, and usually she made a big show of throwing out all the booze in the house. But a couple days later I'd come home from school and I'd see her going through the trash, and every last one of those bottles would be back in the cabinet at night."

"Frak," Kara murmured. "Nobody ever tried to help you? No one realized what was going on?"

She'd lost count of the number of times she had had to fend off social workers as a youngster, those concerned school officials who could see right through her to the truth that her home life was anything but ideal.

"There was nothing to suggest we were in trouble," Lee told her. "Like I said, I made sure of that. We always had clean clothes because I did the laundry. We had food because I took the cheques they sent Dad and used them to buy groceries. After Mom and Dad split I used his support payments. I'd go through the mailbox and take them before my mother could get them, because if she did, she'd use them to feed her habit. Nobody knew. So nobody could get on my back. I just thought that was the way it was supposed to be."

She nodded, feeling a strange kinship with the child he had been, comparing it to her own situation. Kara hadn't needed to care for a younger sibling — thank the gods for that — but like Lee, she'd learned how to fend for herself at an early age. She had clothed herself, fed herself, even figured out how to sew so that she could patch the holes in her shirts and pants that came along with a rough-and-tumble childhood and her mother's less than stellar care. When she left home for military school, most of her fellow recruits seemed to have no idea how to do the simplest things, like waking up on their own and even, in one memorable case, how to boil a pot of water. Kara had no difficulty; she'd been handling her own affairs ever since she could remember.

But something wasn't adding up with Lee's story. Oh, she believed it all right, but she didn't understand why it would make him reluctant to be a parent. If anything, shouldn't it make him more confident? He'd done a great job with Zak. Although, maybe he was like her. Maybe, they were a lot more similar than she had originally thought.

"So what did you mean earlier when you said you're a screw-up?" Kara asked. "Believe me, no one can do it like me."

Lee snorted. "You'd be surprised. Before the attacks, I, um … I did something that I am really not proud of. But the worst thing is … I'm not sure I've changed since then. The only thing stopping me from repeating it is the fact that — well, it's a lot harder to run away from somebody on a battlestar."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," she muttered.

They chuckled.

"I had a girlfriend back on Caprica," Lee said, and Kara was surprised at the spike of jealousy that strobed through her. "She wasn't anything serious, just somebody I'd see on my shore leaves. She waited tables at this restaurant I went to all the time, and used her salary to pay her own way through university. Her name was Gianne. She was president of the debate team, and she had season tickets for the pyramid team on Picon. We used to go to games together all the time. She'd stand up and yell insults at the other team, swear at the top of her lungs — embarrassed the hell out of me, I don't mind telling you. But she had a great laugh. Great smile."

"So you didn't stay with her why, exactly?" She knew she sounded sullen, but couldn't help it.

He glanced up, regret and sadness in his eyes. "On my last shore leave, I met up with her after she'd been to a doctor's appointment. Gianne told me she was pregnant."

Kara blinked.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

"Oh," she said.

"Yeah," Lee mumbled.

"I'm assuming by your tone that Gianne found herself without a boyfriend in fairly short order," Kara replied.

"That's one way of putting it, yeah." He'd begun to pace around the rec room again, hands in his pockets. "Kara, I could see … I could see right there that if I stayed, if I tried to work it out with her, I would just turn into my father all over again. It was the same thing, my parents were having a casual fling and when he came home one shore leave, she told him she was expecting me, so they did the good old-fashioned shotgun wedding. I didn't want that for myself and Gianne. I couldn't see that as my future."

"So you ran away instead."

"Talking of pots and kettles …" Lee arched an eyebrow.

She sighed; admittedly he had her there. "That doesn't mean it's right," said Kara, shifting uncomfortably.

"I was _scared_ , okay?" He was getting defensive. "I'm sure you can relate to that feeling, since you've done your own fair share of running away!"

"But who says you had to be? Who says you were going to turn into your father? There's no law that just because your dad wasn't there and your mom was a shitty parent, that you have to be just like them! You're a different person, Lee! You can make your own choices! Do things your own way!"

Kara sucked in a breath, suddenly realizing how true those words might be, for her.

He began to pace again. "But I'm not great with kids, Kara. Never have been. Except Zak, I just … I can't relate to them. I always end up saying stupid things, or I scare them, or I don't do stuff right. I — I wouldn't know what to do. I'd mess up."

"Then why are you on my back so much about this?" she asked, the sullenness creeping back into her voice. "If you'd rather I just give it up, why are you going off at me in sickbay and telling me not to call it a parasite and all the other shit? I'd have thought you'd be _happy_ when I said I was considering getting rid of it!"

"Because …" Lee wouldn't look at her. "Because despite everything, I regret what I did to Gianne. I think it was frakking cowardly actually. I never got a chance to talk to her again; the Cylons attacked a month later. And …"

"What?"

Now he glanced up, and she saw the same naked devotion in his eyes, the look he had worn on Colonial Day when they'd been dancing together. The look that he had given her right before he confessed that he loved her. That look made her stomach twist, equal parts fear and pleasure.

"Because it's me," Kara sighed. "Right?"

"Because it's you," Lee said quietly. "Because I can't walk away from you. Because I won't. Because I —" He cut himself off, abruptly.

"Say it," she whispered, astonished at her own boldness.

"Because I love you."

Kara shut her eyes, stomach twisting again. Willing herself not to be scared. Willing herself to ignore her instincts, which told her, once more, to run.

But you couldn't run from a child inside you. You couldn't run anywhere on a battlestar when your flight status was revoked because of that child. And Lee was right. She couldn't run from him, because he was _Lee_. She had tried, she'd run all the way to Caprica, but it hadn't worked. Sooner or later she always wound up back here, back with him, going over the same old territory.

Gods be damned if she wasn't scared out of her mind anyway.

But somehow, somehow … knowing he was scared too … it helped.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place directly after the Season 2 episode "Flight of the Phoenix."

"He needs to know, Lee!"

"Yeah, well, you haven't made your decision yet, right? So we could say something and then you could get rid of it and we'd have to go right back and say hey, Dad, guess what, Kara _was_ pregnant but now she's not, it's all a mistake, we were just kidding, sorry!"

Kara massaged her temples tiredly and exhaled a gusty sigh. She didn't need this crap, but that was situation normal. She _never_ needed any of Lee's crap, and she had thought their little chat a few weeks ago would ensure she wouldn't have to deal with it for a little while. Apparently, she'd been wrong.

"Lee, you don't think the Commander will wonder why I'm not taking CAPs anymore? Cottle's on my ass about when he can send my medical records with his new recommendations up to your father. He says I'm four months along now and that I only have two more weeks to decide so I have to do it now. And you don't think everyone else is _already_ wondering? Everybody who was in sickbay that day is spreading rumours, and I've had to listen to three weeks of taunts from Kat because she thinks I'm getting fat!"

He scrutinized her in profile, one eye screwed shut. "Well, actually —"

She rocketed up from her bunk, nearly hitting her head on the rack above, and grabbed his wrist. "Apollo, you and I both know it's more than your life's worth to finish that sentence."

"I wasn't going to say it!" Lee protested, actually looking frightened.

"Wasn't going to my ass," Kara muttered, spoiling the effect somewhat by yawning hugely.

"No, you're … you're cute right now." He actually smiled, running his free hand over her stomach. "It's just a little bump. There's something there, but nobody knows what. It's like … a mini-baby."

She rolled her eyes, sliding out of her rack. "You're pathetic, you know that?"

"I try." Lee chuckled. "Hey, where are you going?"

"To the head, frakwit, because your kid makes me piss fifty times a day! Do I need a godsdamned permission slip to leave?" Kara slammed the hatch after her.

She reflected that at least they hadn't started another fight this time. It had been more of a … disagreement. Prompted by an unscheduled doctor's visit after the oxygen compressor in the firing range had malfunctioned, causing all the O2 to drain out of the room and she and Lee to go nearly unconscious before they were able to shoot out one of the windows. He had panicked afterwards, thinking the incident might have hurt the baby, and had insisted that she see Cottle. For a guy so supposedly afraid of having kids, Apollo sure was protective when he wanted to be.

Kara was washing her hands when the hatch creaked open.

"You really think we need to tell him?" Lee asked with a sigh.

"What is your hang-up? He's sure as hell not going to buy that I'm still working on the Blackbird, now that it's done!"

"I don't know, maybe I'm just a little uncomfortable with proving to my father once and for all that not only have I broken about fourteen different frat regs, but I've also frakked my little brother's fiancée!" he snapped.

"Oh, please, let's not start that shit again." Kara rolled her eyes. "You're uncomfortable with it — okay, I get it, Lee! I get it! But what's done is done. Doesn't matter what I decide. Now I'm going to see the Commander. You can come with me or not."

She pushed past him through the doorway, and was unsurprised when he followed.

***

"Come in!"

Kara swallowed, her hand shaking a little as she twisted the hatch wheel.

"Aww, is somebody nervous?" teased Lee.

"Shut up." She directed a death glare his way, the kind that would've sent her nuggets fleeing in terror. But Lee was well used to those, and merely smirked.

Adama was sitting behind his desk filling in forms. "Never wipe a battlestar's entire memory banks if you can avoid it," he muttered without looking up. "If the Cylons don't get us, the paperwork will."

Kara couldn't help laughing, and even Lee smirked a little.

"Now." The Commander set down his pen. "I'm glad you both came to see me; I've been meaning to talk with you about something. Here, sit down."

Kara sank gratefully onto the nearest leather couch, a long sigh escaping her lips almost involuntarily. Now that the puking had eased up a little — except, for some strange reason, when she smelled engine grease — fatigue was taking over, and even a full night's sleep never seemed to be enough anymore. She was used to having energy, to being able to do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, so it had been an adjustment. There were other weird symptoms, too, but she didn't plan on letting Lee know about them, meaning that she and her left hand had been spending a lot more time together lately. Usually when she should have been sleeping.

Lee, moving like a robot, sat stiffly down beside her.

"Can I get you a drink?" Adama asked, hand hovering over his collection of bottles.

Lee accepted, but Kara bit her lip, knowing in advance what her answer would have to be. Surprisingly, it wasn't all that difficult to shake her head and wave him away. The fumes from Lee's glass were starting to nauseate her.

"Water's fine, thanks," she told the Commander.

His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "Sure?"

"Positive."

Kara took a cautious sip as Adama sat down across from them. "I was going through the latest flight rotations Tigh sent up to me, from the last week, and I noticed something peculiar," he began. "Captain, you haven't scheduled Starbuck for CAP since we got back from Kobol."

Lee coughed and took a rather large swig of his drink. "That's right. She's, uh, she's grounded. Until further notice."

"Care to tell me why?"

"Cottle revoked my flight status," Kara explained softly. "I'm pregnant."

For a long moment, no one spoke.

"Well, I guess that explains the water," the Commander chuckled. "And why you were working so hard on that stealth ship instead of flying. I certainly wondered, but I figured you had your own reasons."

"Yeah," she nodded. Then, drawing up courage, "Sir, there's something else you should know."

"Dad, um …" Lee was staring determinedly at the floor. "You, ah … you're going to have a granddaughter. Or grandson."

Kara looked down as well, wishing for a moment that the carpet would open up and swallow her whole. Maybe Lee had been right … maybe they should've saved this for when they were certain, if that happened at all … because when you phrased it like that, when you said that the Adama family was going to expand, that its patriarch would gain a grandchild, it made things seem so much more real, so much more inevitable. She didn't know if she was ready for that yet.

She didn't know if she would _ever_ be ready.

"Am I." The Commander's voice was soft, without judgment, so she risked looking up. He wore a small smile. "Well, I guess you two didn't waste time in discarding the old fraternization rules. Or in following President Roslin's reproductive decree."

Lee nearly spat out his mouthful of Aerilon whiskey. "Her — _what_ , excuse me?"

"The president said two things to me when we first met face-to-face after the attacks," Adama told him. "That we needed to surrender, and that we needed to start having babies. I see you've both taken the second thing to heart."

"I guess so." Kara offered a nervous smile. "It certainly wasn't intended, sir. I'd much rather still fly. Protect the fleet."

 _Then why aren't you doing that?_ she asked herself for about the thousandth time. _Why didn't you just forget about it the second you found out?_

No answer came.

"I'm sure you would," the Commander said. "But, you're not the first pilot this has ever happened to, and you'll not be the last. I'll get Cottle to send over your records, and in the meantime, you can continue training your nuggets on the ground. I still need my flight instructor. And we have more important things to worry about these days than enforcing frat regs, though I'm sure Colonel Tigh would disagree on that point." He winked.

"Yes, sir." She couldn't help grinning now. "How should I deal with training maneuvers in the air?"

"Your CAG will handle that." Adama glanced at his son.

"Of course, sir," Lee said tersely.

The older man arched an eyebrow, but said nothing further as he stood. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go over a report with Lee privately. Shouldn't take long, and then you both can coordinate the training schedule."

Kara nodded and stood as well, heading for the hatch.

"And Kara?"

She turned.

Adama's arms were open, and he wore a wide smile. "Congratulations," he said simply.

"Thank you, sir," Kara said simply. Her stomach was fluttering with nervousness as she accepted the embrace. His approval meant everything to her, which was one of the reasons she'd been so afraid to tell him what had actually happened with Zak. No matter what Lee might think of the Old Man as a father — and she knew he had valid reasons for his opinions — Adama was more of a father to her than she had known in a long time, and she treasured that relationship more than she could say. How could she disappoint him by telling him that she hadn't actually made her decision yet?

"You can drop the 'sir' here, Kara," Adama said presently. "We're all family now, even more than we were before."

"Right."

She tried not to sound scared. Tried not to betray any of the emotions churning inside her.

***

"Something tells me you're more uncomfortable with this than you're letting on."

Lee refilled his glass. "Not at all."

His father sat back down as soon as the hatch clanked shut behind Kara. "Don't fence with me, son. You both are carrying so much baggage from the past, it must be hard to make the adjustment."

"Sir — Dad — we're fine, okay?" Lee sighed. "We'll be fine. It's a lot, but … we're okay. We've been talking."

"About Zak?"

"About a lot of things! About how we're going to work this, what we're going to do, what you would say! Things like that. In the middle of driving each other up one bulkhead and down the other." He took another mouthful of whiskey.

"Now that I can believe," Adama chuckled. "She'll be a handful. Much more than your mother was, and I thought _nobody_ could top Caroline."

 _How would you know, you were never there!_ Lee wanted to shout. But he didn't. He had more important things to worry about.

He'd seen the look on Kara's face when his father had hugged her, when she had heard the remark about family. It wasn't a look she wore very often. A look of being comforted, of actually belonging to something, of feeling important and respected and loved and all the rest of it. Kara might possess lots of Starbuck bravado, but Lee had also witnessed her at her most vulnerable, and it was then that she hungered for approval, for love. He didn't know much about her childhood, but he had a feeling it must have been much like his own: perhaps with an absent parent, or with one who didn't really care all that much. It explained a lot about her personality.

A baby could give her that sense of belonging. No matter how much Kara might insist she wasn't cut out for parenthood, her actions over the past weeks had spoken volumes. She hadn't made a conclusive decision, and she'd insisted that they tell his father. And Dad had given her what she craved — a family. Plus, there were her religious beliefs. He got the sense those were pretty strong. And she'd told him abortion ran contrary to the Scriptures …

He just wished he had more time to sort out his own thoughts, his own feelings.

"Lee?"

He jerked himself back to the present. "Sorry, what — what were you saying?"

"I asked whatever happened to Gianne. Your mother told me you were dating somebody in the months before the attacks."

Lee blinked; he couldn't possibly imagine why that information might be relevant at the moment. "Uh … yeah. She wasn't very serious, though. We, um — we broke up. About a month before the Cylons came."

"Do you love Kara more?" Adama asked.

"Dad, how — what — what kind of a question is that?" Lee sputtered.

"It's an honest question." His father laced his fingers together and regarded his son speculatively. "She's been through a lot, Lee. More than you know. More than it's my place to tell you. I just don't want to see her get hurt."

"Kara is more than capable of taking care of herself. Trust me." Lee drained his glass in a smooth gulp and stood, backing towards the hatch. "And I really, really don't want to have this conversation right now. Okay? I — I have some supply records to finish up, I've got to get going." He'd already figured out there were no reports to go over. As usual, Dad had invented the whole thing.

"She wants you to believe she's strong," Adama said contemplatively, almost to himself. "But she's not as strong as you think she is."

"Sure. Whatever." He twisted the hatch, kept backing up.

But he wasn't too far out of range to hear his father's parting shot.

"If you do hurt her, I'll kick your ass."

***

Kara stared at her bedspread.

Really, it was stupid to call it a _bedspread_ ; the military-issue gray was as dull as the metal floors of _Galactica_ itself. But dull or not, it was part of the only home she had known for the past three years, and the crew — Adama, Helo and Sharon, the other pilots, her nuggets, even Lee — were family. A substitute family, true, but a family nonetheless, and certainly more of a family than she'd had in a long, long time.

She could remember happiness. Happiness with her father, going to performances, listening to him play, standing up with the audience at the end to clap. He'd left her, and she couldn't help still being angry with him about that. But the times they'd shared were good. He had taught her to play the piano. She'd known simple versions of the songs he composed, including the one she had listened to in her apartment on Caprica with Helo. Kara still had his jacket, and it still smelled like him — incredibly, after all these years.

After he left, she had never touched another instrument.

Now, her happiness was the ship, and more specifically, the people on it.

The look on Adama's face, the sparkle in his eyes when Lee had said the words _granddaughter or grandson_ , materialized every time she shut her eyes.

 _I can't do this._

I can't.

I can't!

It wasn't right. It wasn't. Kara couldn't be what they all expected her to be. She couldn't be what _Lee_ expected her to be. There was another voice in her mind, a voice she couldn't suppress, parroting her mother's words, telling her that she wasn't good enough, she'd never been good enough, and she shouldn't think for a minute that anything had changed.

 _You'd come in, I'd give you a light anesthetic, and that would be it._

No more worrying. No more puking. She could fly again. She could be _Starbuck_ again. And she wouldn't need to be somebody she wasn't. She wouldn't need to be scared that another human being's life would get screwed up because of her. She wouldn't have to deal with Lee's shit.

 _The Scriptures view abortion as an abomination in the eyes of the gods._

Kara had sinned plenty before. She was a screw-up, after all.

But this was something different.

This was going directly against the gods' will. Nothing she'd done before had been quite that serious.

 _An abomination …_

She huffed out a breath, tears stinging her eyes. Good thing the curtain was closed, so that nobody could see. She would never live it down if Kat or Hotdog or any of the others witnessed this.

 _Why me? Gods, why the frak did it have to be_ me?

Kara tried to lean down and cross her arms under her legs, but it was hard to reach around. Already, her stomach had rounded. Lee was right; she could feel a small but defined bump there. It wasn't fair. It _really_ wasn't fair. All she'd wanted was a good lay, a quick lay, but no, it had to turn into something more. Of course she _had_ to feel an abiding affection for Lee, and that affection _had_ to become love, and on top of that she _had_ to get pregnant. The supply lines _had_ to get disrupted. The Cylons _had_ to attack. Everything had to do something. It seemed almost as though the gods were conspiring against her, forcing her down one or another path, and both of those paths would lead her to a conclusion that was unbelievably frightening.

She flopped against her pillow, hands clasped near her face, thoughts warring in her mind. What would she tell the Commander if she had an abortion? What would she tell him, after he'd looked so happy, after Lee had phrased it that way: that Adama was going to have a grandchild? Why the _hell_ had Lee done that?

Maybe she could say she'd miscarried.

Would she be able to work up the proper emotion, the proper sadness, that one had to feel in such a circumstance?

The image of his face, and of such a face mirrored in a child, entered her mind.

She knew that she probably _would_ be able to.

And that was the crux of it, Kara realized: _both_ options scared the hell out of her. Keeping the child, because she had no idea what kind of mother she'd be, and getting rid of it, because she was afraid of what that meant to the gods, and what it might end up meaning to her, whether she'd be able to forgive herself, whether she would regret her decision.

The third choice, adoption, was no choice at all. She wasn't capable of being so selfless. She wasn't capable of looking down into the face of a baby that had Zak's features and Lee's features all mixed together, and knowing that she would give that baby away.

 _I can't. I can't. I can't do this. I can't do any of this._

The hatch clanked, and Kara peered out through the curtain. She wasn't sure who she wanted it to be. She wasn't sure of _anything_ right now.

Lee stepped across the threshold, apparently in the midst of a conversation with somebody else. That person said something that made him laugh, and his whole face smiled, just like she loved. She adored how his blue eyes sparkled, especially when he was looking at her.

"Lee," Kara whispered when he was standing at his locker.

He turned, and there was that smile again — gods, that smile. "Hey. I wondered where you'd ended up. And look, I, I'm sorry if I put you on the spot there. With Dad. I didn't mean to. It just kind of slipped out."

"It's all right." Her voice was barely audible.

The smile melted. "Kara, are you okay?" Lee asked, pushing the curtain back and sitting by her in the rack.

She turned away.

"Hey," he said again. "Come here."

Normally she would have protested, would have squirmed out of his embrace, but it felt good. Gods, it felt good, him holding her. His arms were strong, firm, comforting … when they were like this, she could believe everything would be okay no matter what happened, no matter what she decided, no matter what she was about to say to him …

"Lee," she began.

"It's gonna be okay," Lee told her softly.

He'd finally said it, but Kara couldn't smile, couldn't nod, couldn't think of anything else.

"Lee, no, I — we need to talk about this, okay, I can't —" Now she pushed against him, pushed away, ran a desperate hand through her hair.

"Okay. Okay." His hands went to her shoulders, smoothed down her arms, just like she had done to him on Kobol.

"I've decided," Kara whispered. "I've decided."

Lee's fingers tensed, very slightly, but he nodded. "All right. You want to tell me?"

Kara gazed into her lap.

"I'm keeping it, Lee. I've decided I'm keeping it."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place about a month after the previous chapter, after _Pegasus_ shows up.

"What do you think he wants to talk to us about?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I thought you might have _some_ idea. He's your dad; you talk to him more than I do."

"Uh-huh." Lee didn't even look up, buried as he was in the report he was holding.

Kara sighed. "Of course, we don't talk much anymore either, do we? You're always running late, heading to a briefing … racing to the hangar deck for CAP … never have time for anything that's important … I guess I shouldn't be surprised you're turning into your father. You warned me that might happen."

She knew that wasn't fair, but it also wasn't fair that another month had gone by with them exchanging barely a pleasantry. Obviously Lee had been busy — so had she — but she wanted them to say more than just two words to each other. She wanted to know how he felt, how he _really_ felt, about her decision. Beyond his initial reaction, which had been calm and supportive and, she supposed, all the right things, he hadn't said anything. But she knew that was just a façade. It couldn't _not_ be, given what he'd told her about Gianne and his past.

Lee just nodded at his report. "Right."

Kara rolled her eyes. "So, I went to Cottle the other day and he did an ultrasound, and it turns out I'm carrying a puppy instead of a baby. It's a cute puppy, though. I'm going to name it Ethelbert."

"That's nice," he murmured vaguely. Then, abruptly, Lee looked up. "Wait — _what?_ "

"Ah, so you _were_ listening," she chuckled. "I wasn't sure. And I was just kidding. You know, about the puppy."

"Puppy?" Lee blinked stupidly. "Kara, what are you talking about?"

"You know what, never mind. Forget it. Just forget it." Kara looked away, fighting a surge of anger. "If you'd rather not be part of this, that's fine. It's fine! I don't give a crap."

"Hey, come on, I did not say that!" he protested. "I didn't say anything like that!"

"You didn't have to! Instead you've just been avoiding me for a month!"

"I've been busy!" Lee told her. "Especially since the _Pegasus_ appeared, which has generated a frakking mountain of extra paperwork and caused me to totally rearrange all the shifts, not that you'd notice because you —"

"Because I'm not flying, right?" Kara snapped. "And just whose fault is that, _Captain?_ "

"You made the decision!"

"And I have to live with it, but you don't, because you're a guy and guys can't have babies! _Right?_ "

Lee looked puzzled. "Uh — it's a biological fact, Kara."

She rolled her eyes again and wrenched open the hatch to the Commander's quarters. "Gods, I see why she dumped you."

"Come on!" He trailed after her like a shadow. "That's not fair!"

"Yeah, well, neither is this!" Kara indicated her stomach, now barely able to fit into the regulation uniform.

"Something wrong?" spoke up a third voice.

They both turned. Adama was sitting placidly behind his desk.

"No. Sir." Lee snapped to attention, his back ramrod straight.

Kara nodded agreement, inwardly seething. "We're fine, Commander."

"You're looking good, Kara," Adama smiled. "How you feeling?"

"Great," she said, simultaneously realizing that, to her delight, she could use the truth against Lee. "He's started kicking a bit in the past week or so." In reality she'd tried to ignore that as much as she could, because she found it weird and not a little uncomfortable. But she knew it would be just the kind of thing that'd get to Lee.

"He has?" said both the elder and younger Adama at the same time.

"He has." Kara smiled, conjuring as much pride as was possible under the circumstances. "I'm not really sure if it's a boy yet, though. I've asked Cottle not to spoil the surprise. I just kind of say 'boy' by default."

"Yeah, you would," Lee muttered, just softly enough so that his father wouldn't hear.

She contemplated stepping on his foot, but then decided against it.

"Anyway, this isn't a social call, unfortunately." The Commander shuffled some papers on his desk. "Admiral Cain and I were discussing how best to combine the two crews, in light of the additional resources we have to work with."

Kara nodded. It had been a talking point throughout the pilots' bunkrooms for the last couple of days, ever since the battlestar _Pegasus_ had unexpectedly shown up and a mission against the Cylons took shape. She didn't exactly mind that everybody had something new to jaw about — it had taken their minds off what had been dubbed the "Starbuck-Apollo Soap Opera," after all. People could be so juvenile sometimes.

"It's now my duty to inform you that effective immediately, Admiral Cain has requested you both specifically to serve on _Pegasus_ ," Adama told them.

"A — a _transfer?_ " Lee exclaimed. "To _Pegasus?_ "

"Why the frak should we do that?" demanded Kara, her mind reeling.

The elder sighed. "Because those are your orders."

"That's a load of crap!" Kara cried. "She's just trying to frak with the G because their CAG has a stick up his ass!"

"We can't just let her come over here and frak up our entire roster on the eve of a major Cylon operation!" Lee added.

"That's enough!" Adama rose to his feet, unexpectedly severe. "You're officers. Act like it. She's given you an order and you will carry it out."

"Permission to speak freely?" said Kara through clenched teeth.

"You may not. We've all gotten used to bending the rules, having our way, letting things slide." The Commander's eyes found her abdomen, pointedly. "That's over now. You wear the uniform and you will accept the rules that go with it. You've been transferred. Pack your gear and report to the _Pegasus_ CAG." He paused, his eyebrows arching. "And if I were you, I would keep extremely quiet about the parentage of your child. I might have let the frat regs slide, but I am certain that Admiral Cain will not be so forgiving."

"Dad, that's unfair!" Lee exclaimed.

"Not by her estimation," Adama shot back. "She knows Kara's pregnant, but not by whom. And I'd hate for Cain to throw you in hack, or worse, because she thinks you can't keep your fly zipped."

Kara blushed, and beside her she could see Lee mouthing soundlessly, shocked. Part of her, a very small part, wanted to laugh, but she mostly just felt sorry for him.

"Dismissed," the Commander said gruffly.

Without another word, Lee pivoted on his heel and walked out.

Kara could only trail behind.

***

"Lee?"

He paid no attention, just kept stuffing clothing into a duffel bag.

"Lee, that was really out of line, what he said in there," Kara attempted softly. "I'm sure Cain doesn't give a frak what you do with your spare time as long as you show up for duty. All right?"

"Whatever," Lee snapped.

"And I think it's bullshit we've been transferred. I mean, godsdammit, I can't even fly, I'm frakking grounded! What's she going to have me do over there, mop the floors?"

"Who knows."

"And who cares, right? That's your attitude, that's your attitude about _everything_ nowadays, huh? It's not my responsibility, it's not my problem, so I'm not going to pay any attention to it. Yeah?" Her anger flared again.

But finally Lee turned, and glared. "I'm not saying I don't care, Kara. I just don't see what the hell we can do about it, that's all."

"Godsdammit, Lee," Kara muttered, and kicked her locker open.

"What do you want from me?" he said, sounding angry as well. She was uncomfortably reminded of their encounter after Colonial Day. Was he going to end up punching her lights out now, too?

"Oh, gee, I don't know, let's think for a minute," she replied sarcastically. "Maybe more than three words a month would be nice! Maybe talking to me would be nice! Making an effort to respond to me and discuss things after I've decided to keep your godsdamned _kid_ would be wonderful, actually! I mean, do you honestly have _any_ idea how hard it was for me to decide that? No, because you haven't asked. You haven't said anything. You've been so wrapped up in your own shit that you haven't taken even _two_ seconds to check up on me. On _us!_ You had no idea he was kicking, but I would have _told_ you if we could have talked!" Kara realized she was shouting as she advanced on him. "Newsflash, Apollo, other people exist!"

All of the frustration seemed to drain out of him under her furious gaze. "I'm — look, I'm sorry, I didn't know —"

" _Then you should have figured it out!_ "

"You're right!" Lee held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You're right, okay, Kara? It was stupid of me. It was completely stupid and lame of me, and you can call me any names you want — you can even hit me if that would make you feel better … what?"

She was gazing at him, her eyes wide, a look of total surprise on her face.

" _What?_ " he demanded.

"You," Kara grinned, "admitted _I_ was right about something! For the first time in your life you admitted I'm right!"

Lee leaned back against his locker, shaking his head. "Come on, Starbuck, don't start …"

"You did! You said I'm right! Here — here —" She extracted a pen and a pad of paper and started scribbling. "'Today, at approximately oh-nine-hundred hours, Leland Joseph Adama told Kara Thrace —'"

"Don't call me that!" He glanced furtively around, obviously afraid someone would hear.

"'LELAND JOSEPH ADAMA,'" Kara barreled on at the top of her lungs, "'TOLD KARA THRACE THAT — SHE — WAS — RIGHT.' Period!" She dotted the page with a flourish, tore it off and waved it in front of his nose. "We have proof, right there in black and white!"

Lee took the paper, rolling his eyes as he crumpled it and came forward. "Hey, don't shout. You'll scare him."

It was her turn to glance down, to where his hands were pressed against her abdomen. Kara blushed; it was the first time he had touched her there, really touched her, since she'd started to show.

She couldn't decide whether to be pleased, embarrassed, frightened, or some strange combination of the three.

"He probably can't hear me anyway," Kara said, to distract them. "I'm just a bunch of organs and weird noises right now to him."

"Mmm, I wouldn't be so sure. I used to talk to Mom's stomach all the time when she was pregnant with Zak, and the very first time I saw him after he'd been born, he turned right toward my voice. He knew me."

"What, so now you're going to start playing music for the kid and reading to him before bedtime?" she asked sarcastically.

"Maybe." He hit her with that smile again, the thousand-watt smile that would have made her do anything for him, _anything_ , if only he'd ask.

Kara opened her mouth to offer a witty retort, but none came, and she was starting to be distracted by — of all things — his _scent_. So fresh and so clean and so _Lee_ , and gods be damned if she wasn't getting wet already. It was ridiculous, really, how she wanted him all the time. _Needed_ him all the time. She licked her lips, which were suddenly dry as cotton, and wondered how best to phrase the sentiment that if they didn't get busy within fourteen seconds, she would surely drop dead.

"Something wrong, Kara?" Lee smirked.

 _You smell amazing_ , Kara wanted to say. What she _actually_ said was, "You … ah … you're crumpling my evidence."

"Caught me." He was doing that _thing_ again, that thing where his eyes smiled just as much as his mouth, and she imagined he was hard for her too, and that she could drag him over to that bunk, pull the curtain, slide down and ride him until they both _exploded_ …

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I, um …" Kara took a step back, faced her locker, tried unsuccessfully to control her breathing and her heart rate. "Lee, it's really stupid, but I really, _really_ need to frak you right now and I _know_ we don't have time but I can't … I need this, godsdammit, and I just can't … _gods_ this is stupid —"

She might have kept on babbling forever had he not touched her shoulder, touched it, stroked down her arm, spreading fire from his fingers. "Hey," Lee said, and she dared to look up. "It's not stupid, all right? I'm a little surprised, maybe, but I don't think it's stupid."

"It's just _weird_ , and I don't know why it's happening but I start thinking about it and I can't think of anything else until I get off, which _is_ stupid because really, who wants their entire life to become about when they're next going to get laid?" Kara leaned in close again, her hand coming up to trail over his chest almost without her consent. "By the way, you smell so good. Like really, _really_ good."

He chuckled, looking half amused and half scared. "I _smell_ good?"

"I dunno, I think it's your kid's influence or something because I _definitely_ couldn't smell like this before he came along, but I can now," Kara explained breathlessly as she started to unbutton his BDUs. "And every time I smell you I just want to take you and throw you down in your rack and —"

"Okay, okay." Lee was laughing as he caught her hands, which by then were attempting to separate his jacket from his shoulders. "Look, why don't I, ah, help you out a little, and then we'll see how much time we've got left. We're supposed to report to Admiral Cain by twelve hundred hours sharp —"

" _Frak_ Admiral Cain," she said vehemently, and worked the left arm of the jacket off. "You think she's actually going to let us shack up together on _Pegasus_? Yeah right, Lee, we'll have to catch five minutes in storage lockers on the hangar deck when you finish CAP. So let's just stop talking."

"Kara, I'm sure it won't be as bad as all —"

"If you're going to help me you'll do it on two conditions," Kara interrupted again, leading him towards her bunk. "First, shut the hell up, and second, I get to strip you naked. Okay?"

He sighed. It was probably pointless to reason with her right now. And if Lee was to be honest with himself, seeing her this turned on … well, it was turning _him_ on. They really didn't have very much time, so he hoped he'd be able to hold on long enough to get over to _Pegasus_ and take care of whatever administrative stuff needed to be dealt with. Otherwise …

"Come on, Apollo, quit being a guy for just a second and let's get going." Kara was pulling at his arms, trying to relieve him of his tanks.

"Quit being a guy?" Lee said, obediently raising his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You were staring at my chest again," she informed him, "and if that's not a guy thing to do, I don't know what is."

"Well … it's … uh …" He coughed as her hands went to his belt. " _Bigger_."

"Sucks, doesn't it." Kara was still busy, drawing his pants and underwear down in a smooth stroke. "Cottle says it's normal, though. Apparently I get to turn into some kind of milk bar after the kid comes, which will be just _great_. At least they're not so sore anymore."

 _Now_ she had his attention. "So does that mean I can touch them?" Lee asked, pulling her back to a standing position.

" _Men_ ," Kara huffed, but she was smiling, so he tugged her forward, against him. Pressed her cheek to his chest while his hands dug under her tanks. "Gods, you smell _amazing_ ," she said again.

"I believe we've already established that, yes."

Minutes later she was stretched out on her back, eyes closed in bliss, Lee's tongue on her chest and heading south. He'd always been a breast guy, especially if the tits in question were hers, and now that the soreness had worn off she was happy to let him have his fill. He had suggested that they use his rack, and Kara silently commended him for that stroke of brilliance. She could have him around her, on her, maybe even _in_ her if he'd stop being so hung up about the time, and not only that, if she turned her head to either side and pressed her face into his pillow, there was more of the scent that she'd become so unexpectedly obsessed with. It was pretty pathetic, really, but she wasn't going to complain, not now.

Lee was still busy between her breasts, licking, sucking, drifting a breath across a nipple, which hardened instantly. He took that as an invitation to draw it into his mouth, grazed teeth against the pebbled surface … just as his finger strummed her clit and slipped inside her.

Kara arched immediately against the pressure, twisting her head to the side and sliding down, then up. " _Frakfrakfr — gods — Lee —_ "

"Getting there?" His smirk was one of pride, not unlike those he wore when he was beating her at something. "And I haven't even used half my tricks yet."

"Oh yeah?" She gasped as he inserted another finger, nipped her lightly with those teeth. "What exactly did you — _frak, gods, right there_ — have in mind?"

Lee smiled and repeated the circular motion, his thumb pressing her clit. "Maybe something like this?"

And he licked a smooth stripe over her stomach, around her navel, pausing to plant a series of kisses on her hipbone before moving to the side and sucking, _sucking_ , and she didn't even care where because it felt so exquisite … his fingers inside her, mouth on her and Kara moaned, a long, single, drawn-out note …

The sound became his name when he moved those fingers, right _there_ , and she gasped and arched and let the waves of pleasure wash over her. It was intense … gods but it was intense … more than her usual climaxes, more than the ones she gave herself, so much more … and she kept on coming until there was nothing left, until she'd been wrung out and lay shattered, skin quaking pleasantly.

Lee looked very pleased with himself.

"Oh, wipe that smile off your face, frakwit," Kara said, grinning lazily. "Told you it isn't you, it's the kid." _And all that crap is almost worth it if it's going to be this fantastic_ , she added mentally.

"Still, I had a hand in it." He kept smirking and skimmed slowly down her thigh. "I can be proud of that."

"So what you're saying is you knocked me up on purpose for the great sex?" She snickered. "Thanks a — ow!"

"What? What is it, what's wrong?" Lee was instantly alert, the smile erased by panic.

"Nothing." Kara rubbed experimentally at a spot on her stomach. "I think we woke him up. Oops."

"We — oh." He still looked uncertain. "He — he kicked you?"

She shot him a withering glance. "Yes, genius, your child kicked me. Now are there any more words of wisdom you'd like to impart or are you done for the day?"

Lee ignored the barb in favour of crawling up beside her and extending a tentative hand. "Can I — can I — touch?"

"Sure, but there's no way you'll feel anything. Too small right now. And frakkin' _weird_." Still, Kara grasped his fingers and guided them towards her abdomen, pressing him into the area where a tiny foot (or arm or butt or head, what the hell ever, she thought) was pounding away. Lee shut his eyes for a moment, hand splayed out against her skin, thumb gently stroking.

When he didn't speak for several minutes, she said, "Nothing, huh?"

"Nothing," he confirmed, shaking his head, and he actually sounded disappointed. "I know it's there, but …"

"Don't worry, you'll get your shot when I'm as big as this battlestar." Kara patted his hand, starting to smirk. "And in the meantime, Apollo, you've got a problem."

Lee looked up, blinked. "Problem?"

"Yeah." She was grinning by now, and didn't bother to fight the urge to glance at his crotch. "You gonna go over to _Pegasus_ looking like that?"

He followed her gaze, a bright red blush beginning to colour his cheeks.

"Speaking of waking up, I think we woke up the Arrow of Apollo," Kara snickered.

"Do we really need to keep calling it the Arrow of Apollo?" Lee's tone was pained.

"I see no reason to stop," she said cheerfully. "But seriously, what are you going to do? I don't think that's the kind of salute Admiral Cain's expecting."

"Gods," he muttered, burying his face in his hands. "Thanks a lot, Starbuck."

"You offered!" Kara reminded him.

" _Damn_. Do you think dress grays are long enough to hide … um … things?" Lee asked as he began to climb over her. She was sorely tempted to shoot out her hand and stroke what was within reach, but refrained.

"I guess, if you want to stick out like Zarek at a pacifists' convention," replied Kara, continuing to grin. "You should take care of it first. Or better yet, let _me_ take care of it. Return the favour and all that."

"I told you, we don't have time."

"True. Oh well, it could be worse." She stretched languidly and rested her hands on her stomach, feeling the baby's renewed kicks.

" _Worse?_ " asked Lee, who could not think of many fates more horrible than greeting Helena Cain while visibly hard.

"Sure. You might pop your cork on the way over and Cain would think you got handsy with me in the back of the Raptor and stained your pants," said Kara with relish.

"Not. Helping." He glared.

"You're welcome!" she chirped.

"Look, could you at least put some clothes on or something?" The pained expression was back in full force. "Having you there — um — like that —"

"Naked?" Kara interjected.

" _Kara!_ "

"Temper, temper." She _tsk_ ed loudly. "Look, Lee, there's one solution that you are overlooking and that would completely take care of your little issue, and sure you'd be a little late, but is that really such a price to pay? I mean, as opposed to the others?"

"Except that she already thinks we're the two most horrible officers in the fleet, and so does the _Pegasus_ CAG," Lee pointed out stiffly.

"Well, I'm glad to know my reputation's intact, and are you _really_ so upset about being called a daddy's boy? It's true, Apollo, whether you like it or not!" Kara brayed a laugh. "Anyway, stop flapping your lips, get over here and let me put these hands where they'll do some good. Unless you want to jerk yourself off in the head, but something tells me that wouldn't be nearly as satisfying for you, huh?"

She knew she had him, knew that little remark about Cain and the Raptor had convinced him, and now it was just a matter of time before he came around to her way of thinking.

Kara was right.

"Godsdammit, do you really think … _frak_ ," Lee muttered, glancing down and back up again. "If we're late, I am holding you _personally_ responsible and _you_ have to explain it to Cain."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She brushed the condition aside. "C'mere, stud."

He rolled his eyes and settled himself at the other end of the bunk, an embarrassed smile forming on his face. Kara was pleased to see that their brief conversation hadn't affected his impressive erection one bit.

She matched the smile with a grin of her own and slid over, studying her target through a well-practiced eye. Kara wondered if she dared suck him off, take him deep the way she usually did, given the fact that her overdeveloped gag reflex was still an issue these days. She decided she didn't dare. Instead, her fingers ghosted lightly over his chest, tracing a path down past his navel just as he had done for her, following the light trail of hair that led below until she could circle the base of him, lightly, gently, slowly.

Lee stuttered out a slow breath, his head dropping back against the rack as his hips jerked up, thrusting clumsily, seeking her touch. In response she bent, blowing a cool stream of air across the tip of him, watching as he hardened further, and Kara figured she could risk him in her mouth for a short time so long as he held on for a minute or two.

She breathed out again and took the head of his cock between her lips, sucking slowly, just the tip, washing her tongue over the slit and back around. Gods, it had been a while. Such a long time since they'd shared something purely physical. The kid was probably to blame for that, although Kara hoped the trend wouldn't continue. Rugrats messed with your sex life, but she had a feeling Lee was still hung up on her decision rather than actual intimacy. Hopefully he'd get over it soon, because this baby was coming whether he liked it or not.

"Kara, wait — wait —" His hand found her hair and smoothed it back, stilling her.

"Lords, Lee, you really _don't_ have any stamina." She released him, having tasted on her tongue that he was close, and winked affectionately.

"Guess not." Lee squeezed his eyes shut for a minute and then opened them, reaching for her. "I just want to kiss you. While you do it. Please?"

Kara grinned. "Ooh, kinky. It's always the quiet ones."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" His breath was hot and fast against her mouth.

"Nothing," she said cheekily, Starbuck smile still firmly in place. "Hey, you got tissues in this rack of yours? 'Cause this might get messy."

"Yeah, top shelf on the left."

She reached up to get them, yelping slightly as Lee's hand went to her breast and he kissed it, laving lightly. "You had your shot at the merchandise already, Apollo!"

"So?"

"So no double-dipping." Kara kissed his nose, his forehead, both cheeks.

"You were never one for following rules, as I recall — _aaah!_ " He ended on a gasp as she wrapped her fingers around him again.

"Shut up, Lee."

She gave him no choice but to obey, embracing him with her free arm and pushing her tongue against his lips, seeking entrance that was quickly granted. Kara stroked him, her hand forming a tunnel, jerking him off as they tasted each other. He was moaning … moaning … the most delicious noises, right into her mouth, and she nibbled his lip and he arched into her, almost crushing her hand as she continued. Palm up, palm down, gentle little circles, wound around his cock and then down to his balls, holding them, feeling the weight of them, softly-softly-softly drawing a finger along the underside and then back up … they tightened, and he was so close, she knew it …

Lee arched again, made the little grunt that he always did before orgasm and he was _there_ … pressing his face into her chest, and this time she didn't say a word … they were making a mess, but neither cared … the curtain was closed, and therefore the outside world did not exist. For one minute. For one, precious minute that meant everything.

Lee sighed, burrowed deeper.

Kara smiled.


	19. Chapter 19

_"Lee, forget it, all right? It's not worth it. You still have flight status. I don't."_

"What are you saying?"

"Go get the Blackbird. Take some pretty pictures of our Cylon ship."

He chuckled, moved closer to allow several others to pass them in the corridor. "Since when do you _give_ me _orders?"_

"Look, I would do it myself but I can't, and you know that. Cain wants me in CIC. Please."

Kara bit her lip, furiously scanning the console in front of her. Dots, each one representing a Viper, were moving, screaming past each other, almost merging. She should have been fighting with them, flying with them, barking out formation orders into her headset and hearing callsigns, directions, everything they were saying to each other. But of course, she wasn't. She could only watch. She could only be reminded, every second, of where she should be and why she wasn't there.

Inside her the baby kicked steadily. Lee's baby. The baby she shouldn't even have, at least not according to the woman standing mere feet from her.

"Adama has taken us over the line," Cain was saying firmly to her XO. "He's left me with no choice."

Kat's voice came screaming over the speakers. "Galactica _, Kat! They're really frakking with us out here!_ "

The communication wasn't intended for _Pegasus_ but they heard it anyway, the open comm channel betraying the plans of all squadrons. She didn't mind, in a way. If he was out there … anywhere … maybe they'd see him. Maybe, maybe.

 _Come on, Lee, be out there._

Being a stealth ship, there was no way the Blackbird would register on DRADIS, and Kara was starting to worry. It had been almost three hours, yet so much had happened in that time. Helo and Chief Tyrol had been accused of murder — why, she still didn't understand, but the charge seemed to have something to do with Sharon the Cylon — and both were subsequently sentenced to death by Admiral Cain. The Old Man had gone to the mat for them, launching Vipers, threatening an all-out civil war if his superior didn't return the prisoners. Privately Kara agreed with him that the so-called "trial" had been completely unfair, and fear welled up within her whenever she considered Helo in front of a firing squad. Chief was a good guy too; neither of them deserved this.

And then there was Lee …

Where _was_ he?

What if the stealth ship wasn't really all that stealthy? They'd tested it — Lee had tested it, back when it was first launched, and scared the shit out of her by disappearing off DRADIS for a full minute — but that was their scanners, and suppose the Cylons' were in some way superior? Suppose they were able to see him, detect him before he could jump or otherwise defend himself? Gods, was the Blackbird even _armed?_

She hadn't considered that.

No: instead she'd sent him in alone, alone against an entire toaster fleet.

 _What the hell was I thinking?_

Zak's face floated abruptly into her mind, and she had to close her eyes against a sudden clench of fright. She was frakking this up already. She'd promised herself she wouldn't, had in fact promised when she'd made her decision that she would try as hard as she could to build a family with Lee, to do right by him even if she had made horrible mistakes with his little brother. So how did she start? By sending him into the teeth of the Cylons alone, without backup, an untested-in-battle supposedly-stealth ship as his only protection. And with this situation to greet him when he got back … if he got back …

 _No. Not if. Don't think if._

She would have to admit to Cain, to the Old Man, that Lee had gone out on her suggestion, her orders. And what if he didn't make it back? Then she'd have to tell the Commander that she'd killed another of his sons. That she'd killed _both_ of his sons.

Not thinking, Kara put a hand on her abdomen. The kid was as jittery, as restless, as she felt.

 _Where the hell is your father?_

Another voice burst over the intercom. " _Okay, we're going to have to break your course now! Narcho,_ Pegasus _— do not fire first!_ "

Kara cleared her throat, glanced cautiously around. Nobody was watching; nobody seemed to care what she might be doing. She scanned her DRADIS screen one more time, looked at the Vipers swarming towards each other, wondered just how far Cain and the Old Man were planning to take this.

" _Ahh, frak me, they're all over us!_ Galactica _, request weapons free! They're coming around for another pass! Repeat, request weapons free!_ " Kat sounded frantic now.

Looking down at her console, Kara started to type.

Waited.

Waited.

Pressed the _Send_ button again.

 _Come on, Apollo. Tell me you're out there somewhere._

A bead of sweat trickled along her spine, and the baby gave a sudden, sharp kick. Kara bit her lip to prevent herself from jerking.

Her console beeped.

" _Apollo here_ ," she read. " _What the hell is going on?_ "

She was about to signal for Admiral Cain's attention when the tactical officer beat her to it. "DRADIS contact! Single bogey and it's nearly on top of us!"

"Identify!" Cain barked.

"Admiral, sir, this has got to be a Raider," Fisk said.

"Well, how the frak did it get in so close without being detected?" the Admiral demanded.

"I don't know, sir," the tactical officer admitted. "I assume it came out of nowhere."

"Right, recall the Vipers, bring the ship about and prepare to engage," Cain barked.

The comms guy was already on it. "All _Pegasus_ Vipers, all _Pegasus_ Vipers, emergency recall, there's a Cylon Raider right on top of you!"

Kara again caught her bottom lip against her teeth, knowing she had to speak up, knowing she had to say _something_. It was either that or they started shooting, and even if the Blackbird _was_ armed, it would never last against two whole divisions of Viper pilots.

She unclenched her jaw and turned toward the command table. "Sir, I recommend we belay the order for weapons free and direct the Vipers to disengage immediately."

" _What?_ " Fisk blurted out. "Lieutenant Thrace, that's a Raider out there, and for all we know it could be armed with nukes! Without the Viper squadrons we're sitting ducks until we aim our topside guns!"

"Sir, with respect, it isn't a Raider." Kara stood and faced them, her back straight. She was uncomfortably aware that everyone in the command centre was staring at her. " _Galactica_ has a stealth ship which we refer to as the Blackbird. Its carbon plating renders it nearly invisible on DRADIS and it was theorized that it could be used to do the Cylon recon mission suggested by Admiral Cain during planning for this op."

"And how do you know that this … this Blackbird is even out there?" the tactical officer asked.

"It launched three hours ago from _Galactica_ , piloted by Lee Adama," Kara explained. "I just received a communication from him stating he has returned after successfully completing the mission. That has to be him out there, sir."

"The Blackbird _launched?_ " Fisk spluttered. "But — how — why —"

"On whose authority was the ship sent out?" Cain cut in smoothly.

Kara could only offer the truth. She looked the Admiral directly in the eye.

"Mine."

***

An hour later, Kara stood nervously in front of the hatch to Cain's quarters, having been called there moments earlier. She had a good idea why the Admiral wanted to see her, and was not looking forward to the encounter. Kara felt sure she was already somewhat of a black sheep in her superior officer's eyes, not only because of her service record, but also due to her personal life. When Kara had first reported to CIC, Cain had looked down her nose, seeming as though she was only barely restraining a sneer.

"Starbuck?" Cain had said in response to the other's name and rank.

Kara had nodded.

The sneer came through in full force this time, and although the Admiral did not speak the words, Kara could read them plainly on her face. _A knocked-up pilot who won't do what needs to be done. Such a waste of resources, grounded because she doesn't have the self-discipline to take responsibility for her mistakes._

For some reason Kara had bristled at this silent condemnation, at the implication that her predicament was due merely to her own cowardice. But she knew it was unwise to test Cain's patience this early, so she'd kept silent and done her job.

Except when it had come to sending Lee out in the Blackbird. Which was probably exactly what the Admiral wanted to discuss with her now.

"Enter!" Cain commanded.

Kara slid back the knob on the hatch and it opened without complaint, with none of the squealing and groaning that heralded an entry or exit on _Galactica_. This ship was a well-oiled machine, brand new and still smelling like it.

She didn't like that. It was too … artificial.

She made her way into the room and stood at attention, right arm snapped upwards in a crisp salute. Her heart was pounding, loudly enough that she was afraid Cain might hear it. Kara didn't care about any of the so-called "typical" punishments her superior might dish out. She could handle time in hack, even though her back wouldn't take terribly kindly to the metal benches in her current state. No, a new worry had entered her mind: not only had she sent the stealth ship out without permission, but she had sent _Lee_ in that ship. An officer who, if Cain had paid close attention to their personnel records, would be seen to have had unusually close associations with Kara Thrace. Normally that might not have been a problem, but a visible pregnancy would surely create questions. Cain, if she was a smart superior, would raise those questions.

Kara guessed she was a smart superior.

The Admiral glanced up at her once, then swiftly returned her attention to the papers on her desk. Her gaze was hard, cold, resembling in some ways the looks that Socrata Thrace had leveled at her daughter. Kara did not flinch, though she wanted to.

"Stand at ease, Lieutenant, and come forward," Cain said as she initialed a folder. "Seems you've had quite a day. I'm promoting you to Captain, and I'm making you Commander of the _Pegasus_ Air Group."

Kara's mind reeled. Her, a CAG? How the hell would _that_ work when she couldn't so much as put a toe near her Viper for the next six months?

"You're — you're promoting me?" she stammered.

"I need a CAG with guts to plan and oversee the attack on this fleet," the Admiral told her. "I thought Stinger was that man, but he managed to allow Captain Adama to launch in that stealth ship right under his nose, so he's out. I'm well aware of your flight status at the moment, but it's my belief that you nonetheless have the chops to be far more useful to me than Stinger ever was."

"And Captain Adama, sir?" The words flew out of Kara's mouth before she could stop them.

"Truth be told, I came this close to throwing him in the brig. But I couldn't exactly charge him and not you, so I just revoked his flight status."

Kara tucked her arms behind her back and straightened. "I want him on my team, sir," she said firmly.

Now Cain looked up, studying her. "And do you always get what you want?"

 _I'm coming back. I said it. I meant it._

Kara had made the promise to Sam Anders, right before she left Caprica with Helo and Sharon the Cylon. And she had tried, on two separate occasions, to keep that promise. The first time, the president barely allowed her to finish her sentence, insisting instead that the only focus of the moment should be to reach the Tomb of Athena. Kara had understood, at the time. But she'd pulled the Old Man in on the second discussion, thinking she might have a better chance of getting him in her corner. Commander Adama had, after all, wanted to continue the battle against the Cylons after the initial attacks, and he only backed off after Roslin talked him out of it. Once he heard that there were people still alive on Caprica, how could he possibly resist going back?

Apparently, quite easily. Kara had come up with a plan that she believed had at least a decent shot of working, but Adama refused point-blank to give the mission the green light. Part of the issue, she knew, was the number of jumps _Galactica_ would have to make — they were well beyond the red line by now — but godsdammit, they had to _try_. Were they just going to abandon Sam and the Resistance because getting to them was a little _difficult?_

Would Kara be forced to break yet another of her promises?

The Old Man had told her to let it go. And she'd tried. Gods knew there had been plenty of things to distract her, but Sam still hovered at the edges of her mind. She could remember their Pyramid game, sneaking into the school office at three o'clock in the morning, how she had felt when they told her at the Farm that he'd died. No way she could just leave him and his team with no hope. But the Commander wouldn't hear of any rescue missions. Neither would the president.

No, Kara did not always get what she wanted.

"Most of the time … sir," she said, in answer to Cain's question.

"Good. Me too." Cain offered a brisk smile. "All right, you can have him."

Kara pasted a smile on her own face, her thoughts still back with Sam and their last encounter.

"Now, I hear you want to return to Caprica," the Admiral said, almost as though she'd read Kara's mind.

Her heart gave a huge bound. "Yes, sir. We have people back there still alive."

"Yes, and they deserve to be saved, I absolutely agree," replied Cain. "In fact, I will go one step further, and I will say that our ultimate goal is that we should return to the Twelve Colonies and kick the Cylons the frak out of our homes. What do you think of that, Captain?"

Kara had a momentary vision of a reunion with Sam, the smoking remains of Cylon Centurions all around them. She imagined introducing Lee, the three of them somehow, miraculously, getting along. She thought of giving birth on Caprica, raising the kid there, flying for fun, not needing to worry about Cylons showing up every thirty-three minutes — or at all, even. If she embraced her child before climbing into a plane, there would be no risk of never coming back. And Sam would be safe. Lee would be safe. _Everyone_ would be.

"I think that's the best idea I've heard all day, sir," Kara said.

***

She was beautiful.

Even when he was annoyed — _pissed_ , actually — Lee loved to watch her. Especially when she didn't know he was there, because if Kara caught him looking, she would usually make some kind of sarcastic remark, which would then prompt one of their usual exchanges of banter. Lee didn't mind that, necessarily, but it was equally nice when she didn't see him and he could just … well, admire her.

Kara was busy now, in the throes of some paperwork that was apparently frustrating her. She kept running her hand through her hair and muttering indistinctly to herself. Every so often she would raise her pen to her mouth and nibble on the end, her lips sucking and pursing around the plastic in a way that struck him as decidedly obscene, and made his mind venture to places it really shouldn't go while he was standing outside the open hatch. She leaned back, stretching, twisting, working out the kinks in her back, and Lee could see her BDUs pulling over the gentle hill in her abdomen where the baby grew.

 _Their_ baby.

Despite the fact that she'd told him a couple of months ago now, he still wasn't used to the idea. The child was coming, no doubt about that, but it was so hard for Lee to wrap his mind around that, around the fact that he and Kara had created a living, soon-to-be-breathing human being, who would arrive in the world and depend on them and eventually grow to be its own person. When he thought about it like that, the fear that he recalled so vividly from his relationship with Gianne would begin to creep up behind him, so he didn't consider it very often. Instead, Lee opened his mind to the _other_ thoughts he'd had since learning Kara was pregnant, to the idea of a boy or girl who was exactly half him and half the woman he loved. He wondered sometimes if the baby would have her eyes, her hair, her smile. For some reason, his own traits didn't often enter into the equation, though he knew that in reality they'd be present. He often pictured a little girl, a tiny clone of Kara in his arms. He pictured William Adama adoring his granddaughter just as he adored her mother.

Lee sometimes entertained the possibility that the baby might be a boy. But that scared him too, made him feel … vulnerable. If his father had made certain mistakes with himself and Zak, then there was nothing to prevent Lee from repeating those gaffes while raising his own son. There was nothing to prevent him from turning into the elder Adama. He knew he had the potential, and that, more than anything else, was what kept him up at night.

He sighed, and turned his attention back to Kara.

She'd finished stretching and was now leaning back contemplatively in her chair, staring into space, her pen waving slowly through the air. Her other hand, to his surprise, rested on her stomach, and she seemed to be absentmindedly caressing it. It was a very … motherly action, one of the first he'd seen from her. Lee supposed the baby had to be difficult to ignore, particularly if it was kicking, but so far Kara had done her best, especially in his presence. He hadn't decided yet if that was a byproduct of the disinterest he'd typically — not intentionally — shown in the pregnancy, or whether it might just be her natural tendency. Of course, now she didn't even know he was watching her. Maybe she relaxed a little when he wasn't there. Part of him, the part that kept picturing their little girl, wanted to see this side of Kara more often.

Though he guessed that he would also have to start pulling his fatherly weight in that department.

 _Father_. Another frightening word.

Lee moved out from the doorway and started to come towards her desk. "A CAG's work is never done, huh?"

Kara glanced up, a small smile lighting her features. "Hi. How you doing?"

He leaned down and kissed her, a soft peck on her lips, and moved his hand to her shoulder, massaging gently. "Oh, you mean apart from being demoted? Finding myself working for one of my pilots? Great. Never better."

"You know I had nothing to do with that, right?" Kara sighed.

"Aside from sending me out in that ship in the first place," Lee remarked.

"You could have said no, Apollo. Since you _were_ my superior officer at the time, as I recall."

She was right, and he mentally conceded the point. It wasn't even really her he was annoyed at — more the situation, at Cain, at being uprooted from a familiar routine on _Galactica_ for a demotion here and a host of other unknowns.

"I know I could have," Lee replied. "Look, I just checked in on Helo and Tyrol. They're hanging tight for now."

She relaxed slightly, visibly, at those words, and he realized how worried she must have been about her friend. Lee wasn't sure about the exact nature of the bond between Kara and Helo, but he knew it ran deep, probably even deeper than their own, and Kara had clearly been distressed at the news that Agathon was to be executed.

"Good," she murmured. "Help me plan this op? I've been staring at this roster for two hours now and your kid is killing my back. Can't say this chair has much to recommend it either."

He moved in behind her, rubbing both shoulders now, feeling how tense she was. "Has he been kicking a lot?"

"Doesn't stop, I swear to gods." Kara yawned indelicately. "The second I sit down to do anything serious he's trying to interrupt me. Practice for after he's born, I guess."

Lee chuckled. "Well, he's his mother's kid, then."

She turned, a laugh in her eyes. "And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I seem to recall quite a number of briefings I held as CAG when I was trying to 'do something serious' and a certain pilot wouldn't stop interrupting _me_."

"Ha ha," Kara said, and then guffawed for real. "So you think this is payback?"

Lee grinned back at her and ran his fingers through her hair. "I don't think, I _know_."

"Lords, he'll be a terror. With us as parents, he has no chance of being anything else."

"With _you_ as a parent," he corrected. "But he's half of me too, so maybe I can make him just as rule-abiding and conscientious."

"Ew, _boring_." Kara rolled her eyes. "Just for that, you're in charge of diaper changes for the first three months. Double if it's a boy."

"Why double if it's a boy?" Lee wanted to know.

She snickered. "You've never changed a diaper before, have you? Little boys piss all over you when you take their diapers off. I was talking to your dad a couple of weeks ago and he told me the very first time he changed _you_ after you were born, you got him right in the eye."

"I — _what?_ " exclaimed Lee, going red to the ears.

"Yup," said Kara, with relish. "You peed all over his brand new dress grays and he ended up having to run home and change and was late for some ceremony or something. And then he had to explain to his superior officer why he hadn't made it on time, and he actually came right out and said that his baby son —"

"Gods, remind me never to leave you two alone again," Lee muttered. "If that's the kind of crap you're going to sit there and discuss."

Her eyes were sparkling. "Speaking of crap —"

"Please, let's not." He silenced her with a rapid series of kisses that left Kara sighing contentedly, grinning lopsidedly up at him and clearly, having forgotten whatever embarrassing story she'd been about to tell next.

 _Thank the Lords_ , Lee thought. They still had four more months to go, and eighteen years after that.

He figured he had better work on his distraction techniques.


	20. Chapter 20

The hatch stretched blankly in front of her. It was just as cold, as artificial, as it had been the first time.

Kara swallowed against the nausea in her throat.

This wasn't any easier.

If fact, if anything, it was _harder_.

"Enter!" called Cain.

Kara slid aside the knob, noiselessly opened the hatch, and stepped inside.

The Admiral had her back to the doorway, standing over what looked like a sideboard and pouring drinks.

 _I have a mission for you, Kara._

She closed her eyes, brushed a nonexistent strand of hair back from her face.

 _I've decided that it has to be done._

Her chat with Commander Adama after she and Lee presented the mission strategy hadn't gone at all like she'd expected. Last time they'd talked, both had been laughing, joking around. The Old Man had asked her about the baby again. He'd told her some stories about when Lee and Zak were kids, stupid, silly stuff that she'd embarrassed Lee with later. The Commander had felt more like a father, a _grandfather_ , than at any other point. She'd thought to herself that she would like to see more of this Adama, this carefree, happy man.

 _After the attack is completed and you've accounted for your pilots, I want you to report directly to the_ Pegasus _CIC. You'll take Lee with you. He'll watch your back._

This time, Adama had stared into his hands, looked at the strategy table, no hint of any smile in his eyes. He had gazed at her abdomen for a long moment, and his face had frightened her. She wasn't scared the way she used to be when her mother locked her in the closet or smacked her around or, on one memorable occasion, came at her with a broken bottle. No, this was fear motivated by seeing a person who had previously been in control, who had known all the right answers and every correct course of action, lose himself. The Commander looked as though he wished he could be anywhere else but here.

 _I will ask for you over the wireless._

Kara's hand had involuntarily touched her stomach. The tangle of fear had grown stronger, sent tendrils up to wrap around her heart.

 _When you hear me say "downfall" …_

The baby kicked, sharply.

 _… I want you to pull out your weapon … and shoot Admiral Cain in the head._

Kara couldn't remember what else had been said. She knew she'd told him she would do it. She recalled stumbling from the room, leaning against the wall, her eyes falling shut as she tried to calm herself. She'd wanted Lee. Strangely, she had wished he was right there, outside, and that she could talk to him about what his father had asked her to do. They spoke later, because she had to ask him to back her up, but she could tell he wasn't thrilled with the idea.

Privately, Kara agreed. _Assassination? Is that what we're about now?_

Standing in front of Admiral Cain, she thought again of those words. She thought of being in CIC after the op, her hand on her weapon, aiming it at Cain and firing. Having a dozen _Pegasus_ officers leaping at her, subduing her, restraining her, perhaps even shooting back. She didn't mention that to Adama. Had he taken it into account? Had he thought about the baby? His own grandchild, possibly in danger?

"You drink, Thrace?" Cain asked, jolting her out of her daydreams.

"Um — not right now, no," Kara stammered. "Thank you anyway, sir."

"Ah, of course." The Admiral turned, stared unabashedly at the other's abdomen. "But you did before?"

"Only to excess, sir."

"'Only to excess'?" Cain repeated. "Must have been hard to give that up."

"Perhaps, sir, but it was my choice," said Kara firmly. "The doctor offered me options, and I made a decision of my own free will. Whatever the consequences are, I've agreed to live with them."

"Indeed." The other woman turned back, settled with a glass of Libran wine onto her leather couch. "Have you told the father? What does he think?"

Another frisson of fear crawled up Kara's spine. "Not that it's any of your business, sir," she said carefully, "but he doesn't know. He's back on Caprica, I — I met him when I went there on the mission the president gave me. I found out I was pregnant after I'd returned to _Galactica_."

Cain gave a mirthless chuckle. "No wonder you're so anxious to return home."

"Maybe."

"Funny, if I were a betting woman I would have put my money on Apollo," the Admiral told her, taking another slug of her drink. "I suppose that explains why I'm _not_ a betting woman. But you seem very close to him."

"We're friends," Kara defended. "That's all we've ever been."

Inside she wanted to run again, to flee, feeling that her flimsy lies were not nearly good enough.

"I'm glad to hear it," Cain said, her lips curving upward in a smile that Kara would have called cruel had this been any other circumstance. "You see, we do still have fraternization regulations, and as officers in the Colonial Fleet, both yourself and Lieutenant Adama are bound to honour those regulations. And it simply wouldn't do if you, or he, or _anyone_ for that matter, were to engage in such an illicit relationship. Particularly not if a child was the product of that union. The consequences could be quite severe. I am not trying to frighten you, Captain, merely to educate you."

 _She knows._

Kara now felt sweat trickle down her back. That thought had occurred to her suddenly, and she prayed it wasn't one of those instantaneous flashes of instinctive insight that tended to serve her so well in combat.

 _Gods, she can't know. But why else would she say something like that?_

"Yes sir," she choked out.

Could her life possibly _get_ any more complicated?

"I understand you have a close bond with both of the Adamas," continued the Admiral, setting her glass on a nearby table. "With the Commander as well as with his son."

"Yes, sir," Kara said again. She wished she could say something else.

"And I know Bill Adama is a good man," Cain mused. "And I know he's had to make some very hard choices over the last several months. Lords know I have."

Kara unstuck her throat. "Well then, maybe you can understand why he did what he thought he had to do when you said you were going to execute Helo and Tyrol."

It was risky, but she found herself not caring.

Cain glanced up at her, suddenly and unexpectedly severe. "Let me tell you something. I've had to watch a lot of kids be put into body bags. They're covered with flags and they float out that airlock. You think I don't understand his feelings towards his men? Or yours towards your child? Sometimes, terrible things have to be done. Inevitably, each and every one of us will face a moment where we have to commit that horrible sin. And if we flinch in that moment, if we hesitate for one _second_ , if we let our conscience and our personal feelings and beliefs get in the way, you know what happens? There are _more_ kids in those body bags. More kids floating out that airlock. I don't know why … but I have a lot of faith in you. And I want you to promise me that when you face another choice, when you have to make that decision again to end a life, that when that moment comes, you won't flinch. Do not flinch."

Kara thought of the baby.

She thought of Lee.

She thought of the mission the Old Man had given her, and felt sick once more.

"Yes, sir," she said quietly.

***

An hour later, Lee stood outside a second hatch.

This one was older, more worn, the handle smooth and shiny with use. He'd gripped that handle and walked through this hatch more times than he cared to remember. He'd done it when he was happy, and when he was angry, and when he was indifferent, and when he was scared and on a thousand other occasions. It seemed like not all that long ago when he and Kara walked through it to inform the Commander that Kara was pregnant. He'd been frightened then too.

But this was different.

Now, he was _terrified_.

Everything was moving too fast. Events were hurtling on without time for conscious thought, without time for objections, when objections needed to be made. Circumstances and decisions needed to be considered. Lee was afraid for himself, for his own mind, for all of the fears that had been brewing inside him since Kara returned from Caprica carrying the baby that would forever cleave their past from their future, and tie them together in a permanent, inarguable way. He longed for the days when things had been simple. Sometimes he wished he could go back to the time when Kara was in sickbay after her adventure on the desert moon, and shake some sense into himself. But no … that wasn't really right, either. Lee didn't regret the fact that he'd left his rack, that he'd gone to see her, that they had made love. He just regretted the consequences. Based on the dates, their child had probably been conceived either on that night or shortly thereafter. If he'd been responsible, if he had listened to his common sense … would they be in this situation right now? Probably not. But then, would they even be still together at all, whatever that "together" was? Maybe they wouldn't. Perhaps they would have just gone on dancing around each other, and he wouldn't have drawn her out on the _Astral Queen_. And then … well, who knew? Possibly he might have eventually slept with her. But she might have had other things on her mind, other people, and she likely wouldn't realize exactly how deep his feelings for her ran. Lee himself might not, either.

There were other people he could have been with. Hell, off the top of his head Lee could immediately name an example: Anastasia Dualla, _Galactica_ 's comms officer, who'd been giving him the eye in the defense classes he taught weekly. The fact that he was with Kara wasn't exactly an open secret. People suspected, but suspecting was different from knowing outright, and as long as the truth had not been confirmed, he still found himself fending off the occasional pass from interested female — and sometimes male — parties. Lee didn't blame Dee, necessarily. She had a good head on her shoulders and under any other circumstances, he would probably have found her quite attractive and desirable. Gods knew they'd spent enough time together, at least before _Pegasus_ had shown up. Dee was stable, charming, quick with a joke, and kind. But …

But.

The reality was that now, nothing could blot out the starfire of the love he felt for Kara. He had originally told her on Colonial Day, but it had grown since then, grown so much that he felt a part of him was defined by it, that he couldn't have escaped even if he wanted to. And he _didn't_ want to. This had only partially to do with the baby, and with the happy family that he occasionally saw them becoming. The rest of it was _her_. The rest of it was the way he felt incomplete when she wasn't around. It was crazy, really — he clashed with her constantly, and no one could push his buttons like she could. But maybe that was love, too.

And now, he was unspeakably, unquestioningly terrified for her.

He stood in front of his father's desk, having been summoned inside. Lee unclenched his teeth.

"Courier run from _Pegasus_ , sir," he said, depositing a packet of file folders and papers.

Adama chuckled. "They got you doing courier runs now, huh?"

"Well, I — I volunteered for this one," Lee admitted. "Kara told me about her … uh, her mission."

"Come to change my mind?" The Commander didn't meet his son's eyes.

"I just wanted to hear it from you."

"Decision's been made," Adama said brusquely.

"Assassination," said Lee, his voice brittle, hard. "That's your decision. That's how you resolve your differences with your superior officers."

Now the Old Man fixed him with a penetrating stare. "If you're gonna have some problem backing up Starbuck, I can find somebody else."

Lee's temper flared. "This isn't about me backing her up and you know that as well as I do!" he hissed. "This is about sending her on a suicide mission, a mission _she might not come back from_ , while she is almost six months pregnant with my child! If you ask her to do this, if you ask her to kill Cain, and she does that right in the CIC in front of everyone, what do you think is going to happen to her? This is _war_ , Dad! Those Marines in there, they aren't going to care she's pregnant! They aren't going to exercise restraint! They are going to shoot to kill! And when she's locked up in that casket after she dies, it's not just going to be her, it's going to be your grandchild, too! My son or daughter! You'll have the blood of _two_ people on your hands, and is that what you really want? Huh? Is it?"

He was yelling by then, but found himself not caring.

The Commander rose to his feet. "I will not be spoken to like that, especially not by you!" he growled. "It was a military decision, intended to safeguard the fleet. Captain Thrace understands her own situation and she is cognizant of the risks involved. She could have said no, but she did not."

"Only because she respects you too much to go against you!" shouted Lee. "Kara worships the ground you walk on, Dad! She would throw herself out an airlock if she thought it would make you happy! Of _course_ she's not going to refuse!"

"Is that what this is really about?" His father shot him a glare under which many braver men had withered. "Or is it about you not wanting to live up to your responsibilities in more ways than one?"

" _What?_ " Lee exclaimed.

"She talks to me, son! And what she has said is that since she told you she was pregnant, you have been cold, you have been distant, you have refused to attend any of her medical appointments and you have, quite frankly, allowed Kara to become uncertain about what your role will be in the child's life. I expected far better from you, and I believe I told you so!"

"Oh, yeah, like how _you_ were there for my mother? Like how _you_ went to all _her_ appointments? That's a frakking load of bullshit, _sir_ , and you can't even try to convince me otherwise!" Lee was pacing back and forth in his agitation. "Do as I say and not as I do, right? Is that what it's gonna be? Because you'll forgive me for saying this but you were _not_ exactly the best of role models!"

Adama raised his voice. "I was there for your birth —"

"But what about Zak? What about all those times you weren't home and Mom was hitting the bottle and there was nobody left but _me?_ I had to cook the meals and wash the dishes and help him with homework and write notes to his teacher and if he had a nightmare or wet the bed or got sick who was on the hook? Me! I was _ten_ , Dad! I wasn't ready to be a father!"

"And you're gravely mistaken if you think you're ready to be one now," the Old Man snapped.

"How can you even _say_ that?" Lee sputtered. He felt so angry that he thought he was going to throw up. "I've _tried_ to be there for her, but she's not exactly mother of the year either! She doesn't _tell_ me about her appointments! Every single time we see each other we butt heads over something! If she wants to make this work she has to pull her own weight —"

"Just as you have to pull yours!" Adama interrupted. "I look at you and what I see coming out of your mouth is the same pathetic excuses. That's all they are: excuses! I will admit that you had more placed on your shoulders when you were young than you should have, but it has done nothing to make you put others before yourself. You are still the same self-absorbed, self-centered, self-serving person that you were when you first came aboard my ship! And those parts of oneself have no place in one's personality when one is going to be a parent." He paused for breath. "You won't make the same mistakes I did with an attitude like that. You'll make new ones. But they will be just as damaging as those you perceive me to have made. And twenty years from now you will be standing across a desk from your son or daughter, having this precise conversation. Providing that they are still speaking to you, of course."

The younger man stood still now, his anger having been punctured and abruptly deflated by his father's tirade. He knew neither what to say, nor what to do. This wasn't like the time that he and Kara had stood in the Commander's office and Dad had warned them about keeping their relationship a secret. This wasn't like that at all.

Adama's words were the truth.

As quickly as the anger departed, fear was moving in to fill the vacuum. Unvarnished, full-blown fear, the kind Lee hadn't allowed himself to feel since learning of Kara's pregnancy. He'd had flashes of it, certainly, but as quickly as they'd arrived he suppressed them. Dad had given voice to the fear, and it coiled inside him and crouched like a living thing. Sick fear, sick _guilt_ , churning in his gut that all of these negative qualities were simply who he was, and there wasn't any way to change them.

Lee scrubbed a hand over his face.

She didn't deserve him.

He didn't know exactly which "she" he was thinking of; perhaps both, Kara and Gianne all rolled into one. Both of them had seen something, enough to draw them in, but as with the first, so would he be with the second. He couldn't do this. _He couldn't do this._ He would only end up disappointing Kara, and the baby, and he wondered how he could have trusted himself with another relationship. Wondered again what the _hell_ he could have been thinking when he left his bunk for sickbay that night.

 _I was crazy. I_ am _crazy._

And it hurt so much because his love for her ran so deeply.

Lee didn't speak another word. None that he could remember, anyway. He must have ended the conversation with his father somehow, and turned and walked out. He wouldn't be in the corridor heading towards — where? — otherwise.

The senior officers' bunkroom. His locker.

He had a mission to prepare for, after all.

But halfway there he paused, stopped, ducked into the nearest head. The guilt had gained physical form and it was seeking release, and release it he did as he leaned over a toilet and vomited, over and over. Thanking the gods he didn't believe in that the stall doors were full-length. No one needed to witness this further weakness.

Lee stayed in the head until the call came over the intercom.

" _Attention,_ Galactica. _Jump prep underway. Viper pilots report to ready room in five minutes._ "


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This completes the Resurrection Ship arc, and while some aspects are necessarily different than in canon, you'll also find many plot points with which you are familiar.

_He was floating._

Floating in space, floating in the water — it didn't really matter which. The sensation was the same. The water cool under his palms, the sky blue above him, peaceful, calm, quiet. Just what he needed right now. Just to be at peace, not to think anymore …

There was a hissing noise coming from somewhere.

He didn't care.

He tilted his face to the sun, and shut his eyes.

***

The locker creaked as she opened it.

 _Funny_ , Kara thought, _they still haven't got around to oiling these. Damn_.

She glanced at her flight suit, hanging forlorn and forgotten from a hook in the corner. It hadn't been used for months, and now, she doubted if she would even fit into it. She certainly wasn't foolish enough to try, at any rate. Sliding it on, feeling the rubber squeaking and protesting as she hiked the zipper up, would only remind her of what she didn't have, and sense memories could be a bitch. Just touching it, seeing it, made her hand instinctively clench around an invisible joystick, caused her nose to recall the tang of pure oxygen as it cycled through her helmet.

Godsdammit but Kara missed flying. Especially today, now, when she should be leading the attack, protecting Lee in the Blackbird, living everything in real time instead of dictating strategy in the pilots' ready room and then watching a DRADIS screen to direct them over comms. Her Viper had always been her best friend, something she could count on when everything else in her life was falling apart. Now all Kara had was herself, no consolation at all considering how unreliable she knew she was.

The baby kicked, and she smiled without meaning to.

 _Me and somebody else now, I guess._

She reached for her service revolver, swallowed hard as she loaded it. She was still planning to do the mission, despite everything. Despite all her reservations about it, despite how awful she felt every time she contemplated it. There was nobody else besides her that both Adama and Cain trusted, and Kara would need the trust of everyone involved if she was to have a hope of pulling this off. She hadn't seen Lee since returning from Cain's quarters — somebody had told Kara in the corridor that he was on a courier run to _Galactica_ — but she was supposed to meet him on the hangar deck after he'd completed his part of the mission and landed.

She wished she could talk to him before then.

Rationally, logically, the plan made sense: Lee would attend the _Galactica_ 's pilot briefing and launch from there because that's where the stealth ship was stationed. But … wasn't there some tradition that romantic partners were supposed to see each other before big military engagements in case something happened to one of them? Or was it that they _weren't_ supposed to see each other because that could be bad luck?

Kara couldn't remember. And lords, when had she turned into such a sap? Mentally she smacked herself.

 _Get ready for a shot of adrenaline, kid. You'll love it as much as I do._

Her gun loaded, she checked the safety one more time before strapping it to her belt. Hands behind her, Kara headed out of the pilots' duty locker as announcements blared over the intercom and Colonel Fisk herded a group of Marines along the hallway to some destination known only to him.

"Good hunting, Captain," he told her as she passed.

Kara nodded, saluted. "You too, Colonel."

***

 _The hissing was growing louder._

He blinked, the lake and the sky vanishing around him.

In their place was blackness, blackness punctuated by thousands of stars. Idly, he wondered if Earth's sun was among them, glowing dimly, concealing its presence to the fleet of humans who so desperately needed to reach it. In a strange way, this battle was about finding Earth. It was about throwing the Cylons off their trail long enough to resume the search in earnest.

The battle.

He blinked again, refocused. The hissing did not cease.

Ahead, far ahead, the battle raged on without him. He watched as Vipers flew about a basestar like pestilent gnats, unencumbered by the larger ship's firing solution.

That hissing noise was really starting to annoy him now.

He glanced down. A white gas flowed out into space, from somewhere in the vicinity of his thigh.

Oxygen.

There was a rip in his flight suit, and he was losing oxygen.

***

Kara twisted the ready room's hatch wheel and charged through the doorway, nodding at the the nuggets seated in the briefing chairs. They were _her_ nuggets, the ones whose training she'd been overseeing since she had transferred to the _Pegasus_. Some wiseacre had finally taken a look at her file and noticed she was qualified as a military flight instructor, so Cain had given her those duties in addition to the many tasks she completed as CAG. Kara didn't really mind. She enjoyed teaching, to the extent that she was able to push Zak to the back of her thoughts while she was doing it, and there was a surprising amount of additional time to fill when you weren't flying.

These nuggets hadn't earned their wings yet, and they were too inexperienced for major Viper time anyway, so Kara had set them the task of observing and taking notes on her tactics as she helped to direct the attack from the ready room. She figured it would be a good object lesson for them on the unpredictability of combat flying.

At the podium she slipped a headset on and activated the speakers, plugging them into the comms chatter. The nuggets, sitting at attention, watched her earnestly. "They'll be starting off with a mixture of attack plans Alpha, Beta and Delta after the first stage of the operation is complete and the order for weapons free is given," Kara began. "Can anyone enlighten me as to why we are relying on not one but three separate attack plans?"

A hand raised tentatively near the back. "Rooster?" called Kara.

The young man's face turned almost as red as his hair. "Um — because the enemy can more easily adapt if you only use one strategy?"

"Correct. Cylon Raiders are quick studies, much quicker than any of you, and they have the ability to learn on the spot from their experiences. By combining different strategies at different times we can, in effect, confuse them as they attempt to discern one attack plan from another and formulate an appropriate response. This in turn buys us extra time to achieve our ends. Copy that down."

They busied themselves writing as an announcement blared over the loudspeakers. " _Jump complete. Launch Vipers._ "

Kara flicked her microphone to the _On_ setting. "All Vipers, weapons free is authorized. Form up and clear your throats."

She could see them on her DRADIS screen, dots arranging themselves into familiar patterns, the ones they'd gone over again and again and again while planning the attack. Right about now, Lee should be slipping underneath them in the Blackbird, heading for the Resurrection Ship, drifting inside and firing to destroy its jump capability. This was the riskiest part of the plan, no doubt about it: if just one Raider appeared in the wrong place at the wrong time, or if there was a patrol inside the ship, or if the basestar's squadrons didn't take their appointed bait, the whole attack would be scuttled.

And Lee … well, Kara didn't want to think about what might happen to him. Now she _really_ wished she had seen him before this started.

" _Resurrection Ship's firing up their FTL drives!_ " came Gaeta's voice over the speakers. " _They're getting ready to jump._ "

He'd be inside by now.

Unable to sit still any longer, Kara shot up from her chair, uncapped a marker and sketched quickly on the dry-erase board, copying what her screen was showing her. "We see here the positions of our attack squadrons in relation to the enemy ships," she lectured as the nuggets listened, their attention riveted on her and on the speakers. "Our target is this ship here, known simply as Resurrection. In light of that information, which pattern of engagement would you recommend we deploy?"

They shouted out suggestions, everything from names to strategies, and Kara nodded at each. "Good one, Stringer. Dunk, right. Jockstrap, that's an excellent way to get your tail blown off, so keep that in mind in case you're ever suicidal." There was a round of snickers, and the former Pyramid player slid down in his seat. "Rooster, you're frakkin' disturbing, don't ever say that again. Tincan —"

A sudden squawk from the loudspeakers abruptly cut her off. " _— drifter … been … ejecting …_ "

The transmission was crackly, dropping out every few words, but Kara froze where she stood. Her marker squeaked noisily.

The calm, cool voice of _Galactica_ 's comms officer now came through. " _Sir, I just received an emergency transponder signal from the Blackbird,_ " Dee was saying. " _It's the auto-distress beacon._ "

Kara couldn't hear the Commander's response. She didn't need to.

On the board, the marker pressing down drew a single, large dot.

***

 _Quickly, he slid down his sleeve and checked the oxygen gauge. Not even a third of his O2 left._

Frak.

Okay. Okay. The first thing to do in a situation like this was not to panic, and to remain calm. He'd been taught in training that fear caused labored breathing, which in turn used up the oxygen supply too fast. The proper course of action after ejecting was to hang tight, listen for contact from your battlestar's comms officer, and transmit your location as soon as that contact had been made so that the rescue Raptor could retrieve you. He had already tripped the stealth ship's emergency beacon, so his last position had been recorded. He just had to wait, and hope in the meantime that the oxygen didn't run out.

As he slid his hand down to plug the rip in his flight suit, he thought incongruously of Kara, of her ejection from her own Viper when she'd crashed on the desert moon. Somehow, he doubted a Cylon Raider would swing by and pick him up.

The desert moon had started all this.

He closed his eyes and he could still hear his father's words, see the look on Dad's face.

Everything said in the office had been the truth, and that was what had crashed him vomiting to his knees in the head. In the end, he had fooled himself into thinking he'd changed. But he hadn't. His behavior since learning of the baby stood as proof.

He was so sick of disappointing people.

There was Gianne, there was Kara, there was Dad. Zak too, probably. Each and every time he promised himself he would do better and each and every time he failed, and there seemed to be nothing he could do to reverse that pattern. He'd told _himself to shape up, but words weren't enough. Empty promises weren't sufficient either._

He saw the future before his eyes, clear as day.

Kara giving birth and being a much better parent than he could ever hope to be. The baby preferring her, screaming every time it was handed to its father. Getting disappointed, discouraged. Finding one reason after another to stay away, believing that they didn't need him anyway. The child's first birthday. Kara celebrating with the baby and the Old Man, while he watched from the fringes. Maybe he'd leave the military, get a job someplace else so he wouldn't have to see them, send child support payments when he could. They would be happy. They would have each other. He would still love Kara, but from afar, where he could protect her from himself.

But that was just running away. He was just a coward, if that was the path he was considering.

Zak wouldn't have run.

Zak would have stayed with her, would've found some way to work it out.

He should have died, not his little brother.

The hissing had started again.

This time, Lee did not care. There was only the sound of his own voice, in his ears.

"I'm sorry, Kara."

***

The companionway door swished open.

Nausea mounted in her throat. Seemed like she was getting nauseous a lot lately, and none of it had anything to do with the baby.

Kara walked forward. Her feet felt heavy, slow to move. Even in her nightmares she had never imagined being this frightened, this utterly petrified, to obey a superior officer's order. This was murder. This was a sin. To say nothing of the risks to her personally. She might not have cared if it were just her, if she was the only one taking that risk, if she was expected to sacrifice her own life. It seemed like a fair trade. But this, here, now, was _not_ a fair trade. Not only her life, but the life of an innocent, the life of a child who should never have been thrust into the middle of all this.

Lee wasn't with her.

In fact, she had no idea where the hell he was. She had no idea if he was even alive. She'd heard Dee calling him over the comms, again and again and again, but no response had been received. Kara had waited for as long as she could, until the attack ended and it was past time for her to head down to the hangar deck. Once there she'd looked for him, searched in the vain hope that the search Raptor might have brought him in. He was nowhere to be found, and finally she needed to get up to the CIC.

Now, she was standing outside the command center. Watching Cain.

"I wish you were here, Lee," Kara whispered, to the gods as much as to herself. "But what the hell."

The glass doors swished open.

She stepped through, saluted, waited for the Admiral to turn.

Which the latter soon did. There was an unexpected softness in her eyes, unexpected because it was an expression Kara hadn't ever seen her wear. Cain looked … _happy_. Jubilant, actually. She was smiling, her mouth splitting open in a huge grin, as she returned the captain's salute.

"I am so very proud of you," the Admiral said, and Kara felt her heart clench.

Cain turned back to the command table and picked up the ship-to-ship line, dialing Adama. Kara looked behind her as her superior began the conversation, hoping somehow, in vain, that Lee might materialize. He didn't, and she turned back, not wanting to appear too shifty or suspicious.

"Yes, she is," Cain was replying, and the next thing Kara knew, the receiver was in her face.

She shut her eyes as she took it, tried to breathe deeply even though she felt like an iron band was squeezing her lungs. "This is Starbuck," she said into the mouthpiece.

Her voice came out a croak.

"I spoke to Lee before the attack," Adama began, "and I've been thinking about what we talked about before. It's not enough to survive. One has to be worthy of surviving."

Kara held her breath.

"That's all," he told her, and she could tell from his tone that he meant it.

Her hand slid to her stomach, felt the baby moving within. "I think that's very wise, sir. Thank you."

He then spoke far more quietly, so quietly that she nearly didn't hear him, and had almost handed the phone back to Cain. "I won't do it, Kara. I won't sacrifice your child, my grandchild, on the altar of vengeance."

Tears sprang unexpectedly to her eyes, and Kara cursed herself for behaving so ridiculously. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," she whispered. Waited a beat, then passed over the receiver.

Cain accepted it with another uncharacteristic smile, speaking in low tones to the Commander, asking for her XO. Kara sidled over to the communications table, trying to appear inconspicuous but not in truth caring whether or not the Admiral saw her. Now that her nerves over Adama's mission had subsided, another fear was moving quickly in to take their place.

"Hoshi." Kara leaned forward over the comms table. "Has _Galactica_ — is there any word about the stealth ship? The Blackbird? I heard over speakers in the ready room that Lee — that Lieutenant Adama had to eject."

Luckily, the officer didn't seem to notice her slip. "An SAR Raptor was dispatched to the lieutenant's last known position, but he didn't answer hails requesting additional coordinates," Hoshi told her. "I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say." His eyes held sympathy.

"Thanks anyway," Kara mumbled. She turned, now beginning to wish she wasn't here, in the command centre where the mood was buoyant and slaphappy _Pegasus_ staff were still shaking hands, laughing and congratulating each other on the success of the mission. She was glad they'd destroyed the Resurrection Ship, that the operation was a good one with relatively few casualties. But if one of those casualties was Lee … _why_ hadn't Dee been able to establish contact with him? Surely he'd had time to eject … but if not …

"Captain Thrace?" Hoshi was now motioning her back, one hand on his comm unit as he listened to an incoming transmission.

She turned. Didn't dare hope.

"Petty Officer Dualla is requesting you take a Raptor to the _Galactica_ immediately. She says they think they've found something."

***

 _He was in the lake again._

In the background there was a voice, repeating, over and over, but he neither knew nor cared what it was saying.

There was only the water. The waves, the wind fluttering gently through nearby trees.

He could stay here forever.

Far from everything that was frightening him, every doubt, every responsibility, every failing he'd ever had. In this place, they weren't all catalogued and paraded before him, yelled at him by his father, glared silently across a room by Kara, implied by the fullness of her stomach.

He loved her. He loved her so much.

But he could never have her.

Slowly, Lee sank beneath the waves.

***

Someone had pulled him up.

He had emerged sputtering, coughing, whimpering like a newborn infant.

Now, Lee stared at the sickbay ceiling. It was as blank, as empty, as he felt.

He didn't look up when the curtain slid closed, nor when footsteps moved towards his bedside. It was probably just Cottle come to kick him out, anyway.

"Lee?"

Gods. It was _her_.

Kara looked haggard. Perhaps as awful as he'd seen her, as bad as she'd been since Zak's death, since the Cylons had come every thirty-three minutes. Her features were drawn and pale, pinched with worry, and her abdomen looked especially huge under her uniform. But she was alive. She was alive and she was breathing and … something was trying to dissolve, the walls he'd built up were trying to crack, just from seeing her …

"Hey," he replied softly. Tonelessly.

Before Lee knew it she had put her arms around him and his senses were full of Kara. She was hugging him tightly, and he became aware that she was trembling. He raised his own arms only somewhat reluctantly to embrace her in return. Holding her felt comforting, for whatever reason.

"If you _ever_ scare me like that again I will personally bring you back from the dead so I can kill you myself," Kara hissed in his ear. "What the _frak_ were you thinking, Lee?"

"I wasn't," Lee said, which was the truth.

"Yeah, obviously not." She grasped his arms and carefully helped him to a sitting position. "Doc says you're okay to go, but he wants you on _Galactica_ overnight just in case, so I've gotten us a couple spare spots in the old bunkroom. All right?"

"How did you manage that?" He attempted to stand, winced, and wobbled, Kara moving quickly to offer support.

"Easy, flyboy." She slipped an arm around his shoulders. "I called in some favours. Triad bets, stuff like that. I threatened when necessary. You know, the usual methods."

"Guess your triad wins are good for something."

"Guess so."

A part of him hated how they sounded, like they were strangers being forced to mingle at a cocktail party. But Lee didn't know how to fix that. His brain felt slow, stupid. All he wanted to do was sleep.

The walk back to the bunkroom seemed to take forever. Kara didn't protest, and for once, neither did she make any jokes at his expense. She just held onto him securely and allowed him to go at his own pace, even though his feet were so sluggish that he seemed to be walking through molasses. When, halfway there, Lee submitted to his instincts and let his head fall onto her shoulder, Kara stroked his hair and glared down the crewmembers who dared look askance.

She was still there as he climbed into the appointed bunk, and she untied his boots for him and set them on the floor. He lay there, watching the ceiling again, as Kara gently massaged his feet.

"The baby's kicking again," she offered softly, sliding closer. "Wanna see if you can feel?"

Lee didn't have the heart to tell her that that was the last thing he either needed or wanted right now. He didn't have the courage to talk about the fight he'd had with his father prior to the mission. He didn't have the strength to say that he wasn't good enough for her, that he could never _be_ good enough no matter what he did.

So he pressed his hand flat against her abdomen, and when the flutters came, Lee could not tell if it was the child, or the stirrings of his own guilt.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had to muck around with timelines a bit here - even though it's stated in canon that not very much time passes between "Resurrection Ship" and "Black Market", for plot purposes there needed to be a gap, so this takes place about three months after the events of "Resurrection Ship."

_"Lee, are you okay?"_

He glanced up at her, and the look in his eyes frightened her. They were empty. Cold. "Not really. I — um — I broke my word to you."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused.

"I let you down," Lee whispered. "I wasn't there when you needed me."

She sighed, leaned down to run her fingers through his hair again. "Look … a close call like that … that would mess with anybody's head, all right? It turns out I didn't need you anyway. So … let's just be glad that we both came back alive, okay?"

What he said next chilled her blood.

"That's just it, Kara. I … I didn't want to make it back alive."

Her eyes flew open. A drop of sweat trickled down her face.

A nightmare.

Just a nightmare. Just a silly, stupid dream.

True, the contents of that dream were based on a factual event. It had happened three and a half months ago, but still her mind dwelled on it, still she replayed it in her sleep every night. Along with other, more disturbing imaginings, usually involving the baby. Her brain continually conjured up new and ever more frightening things that could happen after she gave birth, becoming worse and worse as the pregnancy approached its conclusion. In one such dream, Kara found herself in her Viper, running a CAP, and she discovered that she'd forgotten to leave the baby behind. It had its own little flight suit, but no helmet, and was slowly suffocating to death while she stared at the stars. Another dream involved her mistaking her child for a dinner dish and sliding it into an oven to cook. Or sometimes, she was delivering the baby and it came out and had two heads, or was covered in scales, or it turned out to be a mini-Cylon complete with a glowing red eye that slid from side to side.

Kara attributed that last mental image to her time at the Farm and to her fears immediately afterward, that Simon and his toaster gang had knocked her up with some kind of weird hybrid. Thankfully, she now knew that worry to be totally unfounded — Cottle had done all the usual tests, and they had shown the child to be completely human, half hers and half Lee's. That was a relief, though she hadn't honestly believed the baby would be a Cylon.

She wished she could say that her other fears were so easily resolved.

Now, they revolved mainly around Lee. And with good reason: since his little "space walk," as they both referred to it, she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she'd seen him smile, laugh, or show any interest in flying or the aspects of his normal life. He moved through his days like a zombie, and worst of all, she had no idea what to do about it. She had suggested that he talk to somebody, maybe just to get his head sorted out, but Lee had angrily retorted that he "didn't need a frakking shrink." In a way, Kara could sympathize, since she herself had never found them to be much help. She'd only mentioned it as a last resort, because she'd run out of ideas.

He had confessed to her outright that he wanted to die, and that scared her more than anything else. It scared her more than anything that had happened since the Resurrection Ship mission — even more than Cain's death at the hands of the _Pegasus'_ Cylon prisoner, which had gutted Kara to the core for reasons she didn't quite understand. The night after Cain's memorial service, Kara had dreamed about her mother for the first time in years, and that too was frightening.

Lee was still flying, as they'd both been transferred back to _Galactica_ , and that too made Kara nervous. If the Cylons showed up, there was nothing to prevent Lee from pulling some crazy stunt to try and get them to kill him. She was grounded, so she couldn't protect him, couldn't save him. All she could do was embrace him before every CAP, hug him so tightly and kiss him so fiercely that maybe he'd be persuaded to stay.

That was why she'd suggested the vacation.

It wasn't a _true_ vacation, not in the sense that they could take off to some tropical beach or other, far from their responsibilities and duties. But Kara, now eight and a half months pregnant, was on official maternity leave, and Lee, ever the workaholic, had far more shore leave stored up than he could possibly use. When Admiral Adama, freshly promoted after Cain's death, had signed off on her mat leave, she'd asked him specifically if she and Lee could take off for a couple days, and after giving her a long, appraising look, he'd said it was fine with him as long as her condition permitted her to be safely away from a sickbay.

So they'd ended up here, on _Cloud Nine_. It was the most luxurious ship in the fleet, and it had cost her, both monetarily and in favours, but she didn't mind. They had the room for three nights, and two days to do whatever they wished.

Lee had been considerably less enthusiastic. He'd almost refused to go, and once there had paced the room like a caged cat for the first day, complaining about how pointless this was and how much work he had to do. Kara, starting to feel the effects of being in close physical proximity to him for the first time in what seemed like weeks, had tried to get him interested in a decidedly more intimate activity, and that … well, the words "ended in disaster" certainly came to mind.

Now she shook her head, trying to dislodge the unpleasant turn her thoughts had taken. This was their last night here, and nothing had gone the way she'd hoped. But there was still time.

Kara sat up, sliding with difficulty to the edge of the bed, and the baby jabbed her sharply in the ribs, so roughly that she had to lean over and clutch at the area for a moment to catch her breath.

"Oh frak me," she gasped next as her stomach abruptly hardened, enough that she probably could've bounced a cubit off it. These were just practice contractions, and she'd been having them for over a month now, but they _hurt_ , and she hated to think that real labour would be so much worse than this.

She breathed deeply until the sensation subsided, only to feel the baby kick her again. It felt like the kid had his feet jammed up into her rib cage.

"Brat," Kara muttered as she poked her stomach, trying to get him to move.

The kid must have been running out of room in there, and part of her couldn't help but long for the day when her body was her own again, and she didn't have to share it with somebody who had little concept of proper waking and sleeping schedules. But that would mean he'd be _here_ , out in the world, and Kara would need to transition from being a mother in theory to a mother in practice. She still had serious doubts about her abilities, not to mention Lee's as a father.

The baby hadn't budged. Grudgingly, she heaved herself to her feet — no easy task, that, when she was roughly the size of a small moon — and headed for the ensuite washroom, figuring she might as well preemptively take care of business there. It probably wouldn't be long before the kid started using her bladder as a trampoline, which was another of his favourite nighttime activities.

" _Frak!_ " Lee yelled.

Kara nearly jumped through the ceiling. The child convulsed inside her, equally startled. She stood from the toilet as quickly as she was able to and peered into the dark bedroom, searching for the source of his distress. There was none; just Lee, just the outline of him thrashing against the mattress, his limbs tangling in the covers.

Another nightmare, then.

She sighed and moved back to the bed, climbing in and taking gentle hold of his shoulder. "Lee? Hey, it's okay, you're okay, you're dreaming, all right? Come on, time to wake up." _Gods, I'm so out of my league_ , Kara thought.

Nevertheless, he awoke abruptly, slumping back onto his pillow, all the fight having gone out of his muscles as he sucked in a breath, blinked, his eyes scanning the room wildly. As though he too was searching for an unseen threat.

"Kara?"

"Hey." She wiped sweat from his brow, then positioned herself awkwardly to lie beside him. "Welcome back."

"Again?" Lee's voice was hoarse, as though he'd been screaming for hours.

"Yup." Kara stifled a yawn.

"Gods, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I was awake already. Your kid's trying to train me for when I have to get up and feed him every two hours."

Lee chuckled weakly. "Yeah. Guess so."

"You're still in charge of bringing him to me, by the way, _and_ for the diaper changes," Kara said, poking him gently in the ribs. "And don't forget what your father said —"

"I _know_ what he said," Lee snapped, unexpectedly angry.

She winced. "Lords, touchy. What is it with you these days? You complain every time his name's even mentioned."

"Nothing," he replied gruffly. "It's nothing."

"Are you pissed because he made Admiral and that's tweaking your daddy issues?"

" _What?_ "

"Come on, Apollo, it's written all over your face." Kara rolled her eyes. "I don't know what your problem is with him. It's not like he _asked_ to be Admiral or something."

"We had a fight," said Lee stiffly.

"About?"

"Nothing." He shifted uncomfortably, lay back down. "Really, it's … it's complicated."

She grinned and poked him again. "Try me. I'm a smart girl."

"Look, I really don't want to talk about this right now, okay?" In the dark, his eyes were almost pleading. "Let's just — let's just go back to sleep. Early Raptor tomorrow, remember?"

Again Kara realized how frustrating it must have been for him when she'd shut him out, not tell him things. She had always had her reasons for doing so, and she supposed he would have his. But given what he'd confessed to her about not wanting to come back, about wishing to end his life … she was afraid for him.

"Okay," she sighed, and moved closer, seeking his touch. "Okay."

***

Consciousness returned slowly.

Nowadays, the first thing she always felt was the baby, already awake and squirming within her. Kara had learned to accustom herself to it over the months — after all, it wasn't like she'd really had a lot of choice in the matter once she made her decision — but she still found it extremely bizarre. Previously, she mostly regarded her body as a tool she could use to accomplish her goals, whether those goals were flying or fighting or backhanding an opponent across the face in a bar fight. She expected it to conform to her needs and desires rather than the other way around, and she had made it very clear to her reproductive organs that they were just along for the ride.

Of course, they didn't listen. And in the last eight months, Kara had discovered something else that her body could do, something quite unexpected and independent of her control. It could make a human being. It could make a child who kicked, squirmed, punched, and occasionally had the hiccups. She might have tried to ignore it in the early months, out of fear and a thousand other emotions, but that was no longer possible.

"Mmm," Kara murmured.

 _Kick, thump._

Another sensation was making itself known. Kisses, softly on her arm, gently on her back, a hand drifting slowly around her abdomen.

Lee's erection pressed the small of her back.

"Someone's in a mood."

"Well, I did wake up next to you naked, in bed," he pointed out. "Which is your fault, by the way. Why aren't you wearing that nightshirt I borrowed for you?"

"Uh, CIC calling Lee, it has _puppies_ on it."

"It's supposed to be a maternity nightgown."

"I am _not_ wearing anything with puppies on it," Kara said huffily. "Besides, I was hot. Being pregnant is unbelievably hot work, not that you would know."

"Oh, I know all right." Lee grinned against her shoulder. "I'd like to think I'm an excellent judge of unbelievable hotness."

"An excellent judge of — huh? Oh, wait. _Oh._ Ha frakking ha. So hilarious I forgot to laugh."

She could tell he was still smirking, even if she wasn't looking at him.

" _Now_ who's touchy?" he snickered.

Kara snorted. "Well, at least I have an excuse, which is more than I can say for you."

"Hmm." Lee chose not to acknowledge that particular remark, instead renewing his assault on her neck and back. "Feel up to something quick before we head back? The Raptor's not leaving for another hour, so I thought maybe we could …"

"Gods, you don't have to twist my arm." She rolled awkwardly towards him, a mischievous grin beginning to spread over her own face. "The question is, is _he_ , uh, 'up for it'?" She winked and punctuated her words with a squeeze of her hand between his legs. "'Cause he sure wasn't the other day."

"That's not funny," Lee muttered.

"But me wearing something with puppies on it _is?_ Oh, I see. That's the way it's gonna be, huh? You laugh at my maternity clothes but I'm not allowed to laugh at your inability to, shall we say, _perform?_ " Unable to keep the guffaws in any longer, Kara burst out laughing as she maneuvered her way out of bed. "I'm sensing some inequality here, Apollo. Oh, and I think your Arrow needs a tune-up."

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, his tone wounded. She was pleased to note he was blushing.

"Nature's calling, for the fiftieth time. I'll be right back." Kara paused, then added, "Unless you can't keep it up that long."

"To use your words, so hilarious I forgot to laugh," Lee shot back, his eyes full of challenge.

She laughed again as she reached the door of the washroom. "Somebody's touchy again …"

His answering sigh was long-suffering.

Really, Kara didn't know why she was baiting him about it. She'd wanted them to do this ever since they arrived on _Cloud Nine_ , but between Lee's attitude and his … malfunctions, they hadn't gotten around to much more than some kissing before falling into bed at night. But a part of her remembered how he'd been when she returned from Caprica, the way he'd jollied her out of her bad mood by joking around and trying to get her to smile. It had worked. Granted, she hadn't been suicidal then, but she was quickly realizing that she didn't know what else to do to help him now. If only they could talk, _really_ talk.

She had no idea how to even start such a conversation, though, let alone how to keep it from devolving into one of their patented screaming matches. They'd had far fewer of those since the Resurrection Ship incident, but Kara knew the emotions required to initiate one were always simmering just below the surface.

"Kara?"

She stood and ran her fingers once through her hair, brushing it back from her face. "What, you lost it already?"

He didn't respond. Kara rolled her eyes and leaned out of the washroom, expecting him to have shut down again, expecting the deal to be off, expecting everything but the sight that met her eyes.

Lee was on his back, head tilted towards the doorway, dark eyes fixed on hers as soon as she poked her head through. But her gaze was drawn downwards, to where his hand moved steadily under the covers. Her imagination gleefully filled in the rest of the picture, and she licked her lips, heat pooling in the pit of her stomach. Lords, it had been too damn _long_.

Kara couldn't help grinning as she tumbled awkwardly into bed next to him, brushing her nose over his chest once before his hands found the side of her face and pulled her down. Lee stroked her cheek, kissed her soundly, and she was still smiling, even laughing a little. It felt good, being with him like this, having no fear that they'd be found out or he'd go on a mission and be killed, just relaxing and not arguing and doing whatever they wanted.

She could get used to this.

Lee was staring at her stomach, his brow furrowed. "Uh, logistically this is going to be —"

"Interesting?" Kara supplied.

"I was going to say impossible, but I guess interesting works too." He matched her grin. "You're the one known for out-of-the-box thinking, Starbuck."

"And lucky for you, Adama, I've got an idea. Here, let go for a sec?"

Lee obligingly released her arms, and Kara crawled back to her side of the bed, facing away from him and carefully lowering herself to the mattress. Biting her lip, she lifted herself, tried to slide backwards, but her abdomen was getting in the way and she hissed in frustration.

"Kara —" he started, but she was already pissed, sick of her body's limitations, wanting it to conform to her for once instead of the other way around. Nothing was ever just _easy_. Godsdamned kid, godsdamned Lee, godsdamned supposed vacation that hadn't gone at all like it should have, and didn't matter anyway because in an hour they'd have to go back and be themselves again and she'd have to keep worrying about him …

"Forget it, just forget it," Kara snapped, humiliated and furious to feel wet heat in her eyes. "I just wanted to get laid _once_ on this trip, but obviously that's not going to happen, so whatever. I don't even know why we came here."

"Look, don't give up so easily, we can still do this —"

"Yeah, right, you said yourself it's impossible!" Her hands balled into fists and she squeezed her eyes shut; his scent was driving her _nuts_ again. "Just go back to your stupid Raptor and we'll keep pretending nothing's wrong, which I guess we'll actually have to do for the next eighteen _years_ because —"

"Hey," Lee said softly, and next second his arms were around her, an embrace meant partly to restrain but mostly to comfort. Kara struggled once, twice, but he held her tightly enough that the actions were ineffectual. "Just relax for a minute, all right? It's gonna be okay."

Even the oft-used platitude did not placate her. "No, it is damn well not gonna be okay! I am _sick_ of this! I am sick and tired of this and you are driving me _crazy_ because you smell so good again and I just want — to — get — _laid!_ " She squirmed furiously and wished, not for the first time, that _he_ could be the one pregnant, that _he_ could understand just how frakking awful it felt with all these hormones coursing through you and not even being able to control your own reactions to stupid shit, shit that shouldn't even be an issue. It was just sex, for gods' sake. Nothing to be getting so upset over, and yet here she was, again …

"Hey," he said again, and then unbelievably he kissed her once more, just at the nape of her neck, brushing her hair back. "It's okay. It is. We'll work this out, I promise. We'll work everything out. Just take a deep breath and don't think about it. Don't think about it."

"Like that'll do anything," Kara mumbled, but the fight was going out of her, the irrational anger receding just as quickly as it had flared. Now she just felt frakkin' stupid.

"You'd be surprised," replied Lee. "I do it all the time. It's a good alternative to punching things when you won't listen to me, actually."

She smiled. "Yeah, I've seen you doing it. Sort of makes you look like you're trying to glare me into submission."

"And does _that_ work?"

"Usually not."

"It was worth a shot, I guess." He was pressed up right behind her now, having achieved what Kara had been attempting just while they were talking. "Now, about this whole getting-laid thing …"

Kara blushed. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I think I know what you had in mind."

She gasped then, arched against him as his finger probed her gently, brushing her clit and sliding inside, his lips resuming their soft kisses on her neck. The warmth came rushing back, sensations and desires that had dimmed firing back up again. With his other hand Lee stroked her cheek, twined through her hair, slid down to brush over her mouth. She kissed it, raking teeth across his palm, and heard his breath hitch.

"Don't stop," Kara whispered fervently, and he didn't, and she moaned his name as he traced her lips. "Please — don't — _ahhh_ — don't stop —"

She was there before she knew it, clenching around him, and he held her again as white-hot pleasure shuddered through her. Fulfillment was potentially even better when it came like this, after so much frustration, the relief of breathing out, of forming her tongue around the familiar syllable. Lee was smiling at that; she knew he was.

"Good warm-up?" he asked.

"Warm-up?"

"Yeah." Lee withdrew his finger. "I wanted to get you off first, so we could take this a little slow."

"Really." Kara grinned, turning her head to face him. "Thought somebody said they had an early Raptor to make this morning. They said Tigh would have their ass if they're late for it."

"Well, that's not going to work very well, is it? Seeing as my ass currently belongs to you."

"That's a way of putting it." She kept watching him, smiled anew as he took himself in hand and stroked twice, steadily, before moving into position behind her and pushing just — there — _in_.

Kara pressed back, guiding his hands to settle around her stomach. Lee tensed slightly but did not otherwise protest, and inwardly she sighed. When the hell was he going to get over his hang-ups? Probably, she reflected, when she got over hers, but Kara suspected she was a lot closer than he was. It might have something to do with the fact that she'd had a considerable amount of time to get used to the idea, and that she had to bear the pregnancy physically. She'd felt the baby kick, hiccup, seen it move on the ultrasound screen. She still found it weird, frakked-up, and uncomfortable, but there was a certain inevitability to it. Lee hadn't dealt with any of that.

Now, she banished those worries from her mind, allowing her eyes to slide shut as she relaxed into the rhythm he was setting. It was easy, slow, and she was thankful he'd gotten her off once, because she'd never have been able to stand it otherwise. She had a feeling this was how Lee naturally liked it, that if he had his way all of their encounters would be similar. Thank the gods they weren't.

The pleasure was a warm burn inside her, enough to feel wonderful but not quite all she needed to climax. Kara kept her eyes closed and let Lee palm her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples and massaging them to stiffness. The sensation was amazing, as was the pace … he withdrew almost completely before plunging back in, his breath catching deliciously with each thrust. She could listen to that sound forever, to the way he grunted when she clenched around him, probably not even aware he was doing it …

What would it be like to have this all the time?

The thought pushed its way into Kara's mind, demanding to be heard. What would it be like to wake up to him _every_ morning, to do this before getting up, even just to sleep in his embrace? She hadn't really considered shacking up with him, not in the traditional sense that people usually did when they were going to have a kid together. Part of this was logistics: to qualify for couples' quarters on _Galactica_ , a valid marriage certificate had to be provided, and she knew she was nowhere near ready for _that_ yet. Just the thought made her shudder inwardly. But the vacation was also making her think, damn it. Not only about how it would feel to live with Lee, but the logistics of raising the baby. How in the hell were they going to do it, especially if he wouldn't face it?

And yet … when they were like this, it didn't seem so scary. When they weren't fighting or getting on each other's nerves, Kara could allow herself to imagine it. A big bed like this one, probably half the size but comfortable so long as Lee was with her; the kid in a crib or cot or whatever across from them; Lee bringing the baby to her in the middle of the night; them curling up as a family as she fed their child.

Lords, she was getting sentimental. But the idea had its advantages.

"You look like you're a … thousand k's away," Lee said, and it was with effort; his thrusts were growing more erratic.

"Just listening to you breathing. Smelling you." Kara squeezed his hand.

"Gods, you're strange sometimes."

"Hey, _you_ try carting a kid around for months, Apollo, you'd be going insane!" She snickered. "Which is something I would pay actual cash to see, by the way."

"Very funny." He stilled for a moment, took deep breaths.

"Close?" she asked.

"Yeah, are — are y-you?"

"Nah, but it's okay," Kara assured him. "I got mine already, it's your turn, stud."

"Sure?"

"Gods, Lee, stop being such a frakking masochist already! _Yes._ I'm sure." She rolled her eyes, feeling exasperated.

Kara didn't give him a chance to respond, just pushed against him once more, squeezed him as he picked it up again. Now she really _was_ listening to Lee's breathing, enjoying the way his chest rose and fell at her back, how he kept kissing her even though she'd said she didn't care. She was going to have a hell of a hickey on her neck after this — hopefully the kind that could be easily hidden with a ponytail, because it would give a lot of stuff away otherwise.

He nuzzled her hair and made that noise, the one she knew meant he'd reached climax, and Kara kissed his fingers one by one as he filled her.

Afterward Lee lay, boneless and sated, his head pillowed on her chest. _Probably one of his favourite places_ , she thought with a chuckle, and could not bear to bring up any of the thoughts tumbling through her mind. Now wasn't the time. The last thing she wanted to do was start a fight.

Instead Kara poked him. "What about Tigh?"

"Guess he'll have to wait." Lee yawned.

She kissed the top of his head, laughing for real now. "First sensible thing you've said all trip, Apollo."


	23. Chapter 23

The vacation had ended too soon.

He felt incredibly stupid thinking that, since he'd been the one to object so vehemently to it in the first place. Lee just hadn't been able to see how taking off for two days with Kara would be worth the wasted work and time that would result. He'd told her so, numerous times, but as was typical, she'd refused to listen.

Now, he wished he was back there.

He wished he'd taken much more advantage of it. He wished they had spent the time just lying in bed, wrapped up only in each other and refusing to acknowledge the outside world. It had been as pure a form of escapism as he could've dreamed of at a time like this, and wasn't that exactly what he'd been looking for since his ejection from the Blackbird? To escape?

Now, as he entered the Commander's — no, _Admiral's_ quarters, Lee couldn't see how parachuting back into his usual life was worth it.

Especially not here, now, talking to the last person he wanted to see.

He'd barely said two words to his father since their argument before the mission. They still had to speak with each other while on duty, of course, but Lee tried to keep even that to a minimum, and refused to discuss any topics beyond professional ones even when he sensed the Old Man wanted to. Kara kept pestering Lee to tell her what the fight had been about, but he wouldn't, and so in absence of further information, she insisted that he should just get over himself and patch up whatever the hell was wrong. Even though she was on maternity leave, she visited the Admiral on a regular basis, and always came back from those visits smiling.

Kara scared him when she was like that. Not because he found her happiness frightening, but because Lee could see the dichotomy that was already developing. Kara and the Old Man, sharing the pregnancy, his dad practicing at being a grandfather, while Lee himself was cut out of the equation entirely. The vision Lee'd had as he floated in space, of the Admiral involved in the baby's life and Lee distant, watching, always on the outside, seemed much closer to reality than he had ever thought it could be.

It terrified him, because in that image, he would have to let Kara go. And he wasn't sure if he could.

But he had no idea how to stop it from happening, how to stall what he'd started.

Lee swallowed hard as he stood before his father's desk. The Admiral had asked for him specifically, and he had no idea why.

He really hoped it wasn't because of Kara.

Luck was with him that day, for once, as Adama began describing the murder that had taken place earlier on board the _Pegasus_. It seemed that Fisk, newly in command of that battlestar, had been murdered in an ugly and unconventional fashion, Cottle's autopsy proving that piano wire around the neck had nearly decapitated the unfortunate officer.

"Do we have any idea who did it?" Lee asked.

Adama shook his head. "No, but we will do a full investigation. And I want you to lead it."

The younger man swallowed, looked down. "Don't you think it would be better if someone from _Pegasus_ dealt with this?"

"Even though Cain's gone, her influence lingers. I need someone I can trust."

Lee nearly snorted in disbelief. _Trust?_ That was the Old Man's line now, after he'd all but implied his son was hardly capable of tying his own shoes? How could there be trust between them, how could they respect each other, after what had happened? Gods, he couldn't deal with this now. Couldn't stand to be in this room, talking to his father, without feeling nauseated. And so tired. He wished he had time for a nap.

 _Business. Business, it's just business._

The words calmed him, slightly. "You know, there were times when … when that was in short supply between us."

"We've both been through an awful lot, son," Adama said. "And I hope that we've grown stronger for it. I need your help."

 _Why the hell should I help you?_

The words rushed up to his mouth, but of course he couldn't say them.

 _It's just business._

"I'll call up a flight to _Pegasus_ right away," Lee replied tiredly.

"How are things between you and Kara?"

And of _course_ his father couldn't just leave it there. Of course he had to bring _that_ up.

"Fine, Dad. Just fine. But then you should know, since you and she talk about me so much anyway." He couldn't keep the acid from creeping into his tone.

"Actually, we don't discuss your relationship at all," the Old Man told him. "We've talked a lot about the pregnancy. I've asked her what she'd like to do about accommodations once the baby's born, whether she wants me to move her into the married quarters or not. There'd be a little more privacy there, so I think she's coming around to the idea."

" _What?_ Did — did you say m-married quarters?" sputtered Lee.

"I did. I've also asked around and Chief knows someone who knows someone who can get baby furniture on the cheap. We're having a crib brought over from the _Rising Star_ in a few days, and probably some diapers and other supplies. Kara's got less than a month to go, and these things happen early sometimes. I told her she should be prepared."

The room felt like it was spinning, and Lee had to grasp the wall for several moments, trying to figure out a response. This was … this was … _crazy_. The Old Man sounded like _he_ was the father, and he was making all the arrangements that fathers usually made. Again, Lee had been passed over completely. Things had moved on without him, and Kara hadn't even _said_ anything. Hurt slammed into him, overwhelmingly.

Adama was speaking again. "It's amazing, you know … she lets me feel the baby kicking, and the other day there was this little foot, outlined through her clothing. Right there, you could practically count the toes. Have you felt it?"

Bile rose in his throat. "I — uh — I've got to get going, get that Raptor over to _Pegasus_ ," Lee babbled. "I'll report to you later. Sir."

He whirled, hurrying for the exit, and as the door clanked open, as he turned inadvertently back, he caught sight of the look on his father's face.

Beneath the severe expression, the steely eyes, Adama wore a knowing smile.

***

A week later, that smile was still driving Lee crazy.

It was inexpressibly stupid how fixated on it he'd become, how he'd been trying to puzzle over what it could mean. Was his father attempting to bait him? Was he showing him how good parenthood _could_ be, how nice it would be if he settled down with Kara in those (ugh) married quarters? Was he just trying to go over Lee's head, to goad him? Or had he intended nothing at all? Lee had no idea, and it was pissing him the hell off.

The worst thing was that since the Admiral had put him in charge of the investigation into Fisk's murder, he had to report to Adama every day to keep him updated on how matters were progressing. And he hated how his dad looked at him, expectantly, like the latter was waiting for him to snap out of his funk and magically transform into Father of the Year. Lee wanted to scream at him that it wasn't that simple. It had _never_ been that simple.

A very small part of him wished, sometimes, that it could be.

He sighed, letting his head fall back against the cool tile, half-listening to Hotdog and Kat conversing in low voices near the sinks. The spray of the shower was warm and soothing, but it was also making him feel sleepy and stupid, and that was categorically not what he needed right now. After he finished, Lee would have to pay a visit to Colonel Tigh and discuss some disturbing evidence he'd found in Fisk's quarters — namely, a gold bracelet that he was pretty sure belonged to Ellen. If Mrs. Tigh was indeed trading on the black market, as the bracelet seemed to suggest, the upcoming confrontation would not be pleasant.

Still, may as well get this over with. He was about to reach over and shut off the water when he caught a snatch of the conversation outside.

"— about Starbuck and Apollo?" Hotdog was saying.

Lee paused.

This was stupid. Ridiculous, actually. Listening to shipboard gossip was a waste of everybody's time.

"Nah, they're old news," Kat replied. "Narcho says she's after somebody else now, some dude she met on Caprica. You know what she told Cain on the _Pegasus_?"

"What?"

"That this guy is actually the father, not Apollo. It's weird, because everybody was so sure, right? But Cain practically came straight out and asked her, and she said no, it's what's-his-name from Delphi. He's a big-time Pyramid player, or at least he used to be. Narcho thinks he could put Apollo to shame." She snickered.

"I don't buy it." Hotdog sounded muffled, like he was speaking through a mouthful of toothpaste. "Apollo and Starbuck are a frakkin' institution. Besides, what's gonna happen to Gaeta's pool?"

"Ew, Costanza, say it, don't spray it." There was a sharp smack, flesh hitting flesh. "But I mean, have you seen them together in the last two months, at all? No way. She's pining after what's-his-name. Narcho even told me Starbuck wants to pull together some crazy-ass rescue mission and go pluck this guy off Caprica."

"And where exactly is Narcho getting all this stuff?"

Lee was rather curious to know that himself.

"From Fisk and Cain," said Kat. "At least, before she got killed. They were talking about it in the hallway. I guess she was gonna come down on Starbuck's head 'cause of the frat regs —"

"Oh, bullshit, she'd have to put the whole squadron in hack for that!" Hotdog exclaimed.

"Speak for yourself, asshole. Anyway, then Starbuck said what's-his-name from Caprica is the father, and some nurse in sickbay backed her up on it. Good thing for Apollo, because Cain was planning to throw him in the brig." She snickered.

Lee's head was spinning. This was crazy — Kara had told him there was no doubt the baby was his, she'd said the math didn't work any other way — but she hadn't mentioned this guy from Caprica, this what's-his-name. She hadn't, in fact, said _anything_ about meeting anybody else on Caprica besides Helo and Sharon the Cylon. No, instead she had run right back into his arms, telling him only that what happened during her time away was "complicated."

Yeah, it was frakking _complicated_ all right. And he was about to complicate it further.

Once Hotdog and Kat had gone (because gods forbid they find out he'd heard them talking about his personal life), Lee stomped out of the shower and yanked on his clothes, barely bothering to dry himself. He had never quite understood the phrase "seeing red" … not until now. Now, he was so angry that the world was stained crimson, and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. He'd been this pissed only twice before in his life, and both of those times had been after Zak's death.

Lee rushed through the corridor, scattering nuggets and puzzled deck officers in his wake, and wrenched open the hatch to the senior officers' bunkroom so fast that it nearly bounced off the opposite wall. Scanning the room, he saw with grim satisfaction that Kara was lying in her rack, one arm thrown over her eyes and the other cradling her abdomen.

He dogged the hatch — no need for anybody else to hear what was sure to be a fight. And he _wanted_ a fight, dammit. He wanted her to know how angry he was, how much she had hurt him. He wanted her to _feel_ it.

"Who's what's-his-name from Caprica?" Lee demanded, boosting himself onto the table opposite her bunk and glaring.

Kara blinked, lifted her arm enough that he could see one of her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You were on Caprica and you met some guy, some Pyramid player! Who the hell was that?"

She winced, both hands coming up now to massage her temples. "Please, could we just … not?"

"Godsdammit, Kara, don't you think it was even the _slightest_ bit important to let me in on the fact that you slept with someone else while you were on Caprica? And not only that, that you want to go back there and frakking _rescue_ him?" Lee shouted. "You know what they're saying all over the ship? You know what I just heard Kat and Hotdog talking about, huh?"

"I don't, but I have a feeling I'm about to find out," Kara muttered.

"They're saying," he barreled on, "that you lied to me about the baby being mine, that it's actually this guy's! And you know what, if you're lying to me, you're lying to my father, making him think he's got a grandchild! How the hell do you think he's going to feel about that?"

"Lee —"

"Don't, just _don't_." Suddenly unable to keep still, Lee set his feet on the floor and started pacing. "This is really frakking low, even for you, Kara! All these months I've been thinking we have a kid on the way and I've been trying to prepare for that —"

Now she whipped her head around to face him, eyes blazing. "Oh yeah? Well you could have fooled me, Lee. When _have_ you prepared for it? What exactly have you done to prepare? Unless your idea of preparing is to stay as far away as possible, in which case you've done a perfect job!"

He felt like she'd punched him. In a way, she had.

"Don't start that with me," Lee growled. In his mind's eye he could see the Admiral, the way they'd fought before the attack on the Resurrection Ship. "You're sounding like my father, for frak's sake!"

"Good, at least _somebody's_ trying to knock some sense into you!" Kara snapped. "You should listen to him, he's smart!" She was sitting up in her bunk now, glaring.

"Yeah, until the kid's actually born," retorted Lee. "See how smart he is then! See how much he wants to hang around for _that!_ You might think you can go get chummy with him now, but as soon as the baby comes he'll be out of the picture completely! When it's a choice between his family and his career the career will _always_ win out, and if you need proof, look at Zak!"

She flinched, but did not back down. "Must be nice to live in your world, Lee, huh?"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" he exclaimed.

"It's really interesting how you pretend like you're the only one who ever had shitty parents, like you're the only one in the entire frakking _universe_ who ever had to cope with that!" She was shouting now too. "Let me ask you this: did your father ever lock you in a closet for two days without food? Did your mother ever threaten to break a bottle over your head because you got a bad grade? Did she come at you with said bottle when you talked back? Did you spend two days in the hospital with a concussion? Did you get your frakking _fingers_ slammed in a door?" Kara leveled a furious gaze at him as she pulled herself to her feet. "Yeah, Lee, your dad didn't pay attention. And your mom was a drunk. And you've got daddy issues and mommy issues and I get that. But if somebody told me I could have _your_ life, if they said I could have the kind of parents you do, I would have grabbed them by the collar and asked them how soon I could move in!"

Lee mouthed soundlessly, shocked.

"And you know something?" Kara was inches from his face now, her voice a hiss. "Despite all of that, despite my shitty childhood and my crappy mother and my nonexistent father, I'm going to do this. I am going to have this baby and I am not going to complain about it because you know what? I made my choice and I do not have to repeat the mistakes of my parents. And neither do you. You could get over yourself, you _could_ prepare. But it's just so much easier to keep living in the past, right? It's easier to live in the past instead of being a man and facing up to your issues."

She whirled on her heel and tugged open the hatch with a clank, leaving Lee behind her, his jaw hanging open.

***

 _Thud-thunk._

His punch hit the bag square in the centre and it wobbled on its axis, swaying dangerously back toward him. But he was ready, bobbing up, feinting, before lunging and unleashing another attack.

 _Thock thock, whack-thunk-thud._

Gloves beat against the solid canvas, bounced back, the stinging of the impacts traveling up his fingers as he imagined each hit to have landed squarely on his own face.

 _Whack-thud._

Self-doubt always returned, and there came a time when you couldn't hide from the mistakes you'd made anymore.

Lee had a feeling that time had arrived, for him.

 _Thud-thunk._

"You didn't make it to class today," said a quiet voice from the doorway.

He looked up, reaching to still the bag with one gloved hand. Anastasia Dualla was leaning against the hatch, curiosity in her chocolate eyes. They were beautiful eyes, Lee thought, eyes that under any other circumstances he could have lost himself in. Pretty. She really was very pretty. Different from Kara, petite and compact where the latter was solidly built, but attractive in her own way. Dee's voice was what captivated him the most: gentle, but authoritative and certain at the very same time. She was a natural for comms officer, and he doubted CAP would be the same without her soft chatter in his headset.

"I've been pretty jammed up," Lee answered. "Anyway, I'm not sure you need me holding your hand anymore."

She came forward, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Is that what you were doing? Holding my hand?"

He sighed. "I meant it as a compliment."

"Permission to speak frankly, sir?"

Lee swallowed, not sure he liked where this was going. He'd tried his hardest not to send her the wrong message, even though there had been ample opportunity to do so in the defense classes that he taught. She had come on to him more than once, but it was hard to know how to gently discourage her while at the same time avoid hurting her feelings. She didn't deserve the brush-off.

He sighed and tugged with his teeth at his gloves. "You don't need my permission and you don't need the 'sir.'"

"Maybe that's the problem," Dee replied softly. "I don't really know what to think anymore. So I'll just ask. Is this going somewhere?"

"Dee —" Lee began.

"Please don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about," she interrupted. "You know, our time together, our workouts. Something's changed between us."

Lee bit his lip, feeling the familiar exhaustion beginning to build again. It was too much. It was all too damn much. Hotdog and Kat, the gossip, that Pyramid player on Caprica, the supposed truth about the baby ( _was_ it the truth? He had no idea what to believe), his fight with Kara, confronting Tigh and learning he'd been working the black market, and now this. He couldn't deal with this. Couldn't think. How the _hell_ was he supposed to handle it?

"Dee, I can't," Lee said quietly. Honestly. "I just … I can't. There's too much going on with me right now, and — you're a good person, an amazing person. I can't let you get mixed up in all this."

Dee tilted her head to the side. "Shouldn't that be my decision?"

"Look, I know how you feel," he told her, his tone almost pleading. "It's stupid to say that, but I do. I know what it's like to be attracted to someone and to want to take them on and … to be afraid you're going to get more than you bargained for …" Lee stripped off a glove and drew his hand across his face. "I know how horrible it is to feel like they're slipping away. But sometimes things are the way they are for a reason. Sometimes we need to step up and recognize that."

"What do you mean?"

Lee stepped closer and squeezed her shoulder. "If things were different … I'd love to, Dee. I'd love to see where we could go with this. Because I wasn't lying before when I said that you're an amazing person, and I would never be able to live with myself if I kept leading you on, making you think this was going someplace it isn't. I couldn't live with myself if I started something with you, knowing … knowing I'd never truly be dedicated to us."

Her face fell a little, but to her credit, Dee did not flinch. She worried a little at her bottom lip with her teeth, apparently trying to figure out what to say. Finally, she found a soft smile. "It's because of Kara, isn't it?"

"To be honest, I don't know," Lee sighed. "I mean, yes, part of it is. I love her, Dee. I can't help that, it's just a fact."

"But?" she prompted.

"But … well, you know she's pregnant."

At that, Dee chuckled. "I don't think there's a person on the ship who doesn't know, with the way Starbuck stomps around."

"Yeah." He looked down. "I heard, earlier … well, it's probably nothing, but — Kat and Hotdog were saying Kara met some Pyramid player back on Caprica, and she told Cain that guy is the father. Like I said, it's stupid …"

A crease had formed between Dee's eyebrows. "How far along is she?"

"Almost nine months. If she was telling me the truth, anyway."

"She has to be at least nine months, if not more," Dee told him. "Unless she's having twins, but I'm assuming that's not the case. And I remember when she jumped to Caprica; that was six months ago. The math just doesn't match up, not with her size."

Lee blinked. "How do you know?"

She smiled. "I had two older sisters, Lee. I know how these things work. When a woman gets that far along, she can hardly move, and that's how Starbuck looks now. Whatever she told Cain, it can't be right."

He swallowed hard again, barely daring to hope. "Then — you don't think the Caprica thing holds up?"

"Not the part about him being the father." Dee paused, scrutinizing him. "Why are you so curious about this, anyway?"

"Because —" Lee balled his boxing glove up in one hand, twisting the strings around his fingers. "Because she said to me, back when she found out, that the baby was mine. And then this whole thing came out, and …" He trailed off, nervously, not even sure why he was opening up to her like this. But he found her words oddly soothing.

He had expected her to look surprised, but she merely smiled again, squeezing his hand. "I'm happy for you, Lee. I am. But somehow I don't think I'm the person you need to be talking to right now. I think you need to discuss all of this with Kara."

Lee was about to reply, to thank her, perhaps even to hug her, but Gaeta's voice over the comm cut him off.

" _Pass the word, Captain Adama to sickbay. Pass the word, Captain Adama, please report to sickbay._ "


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We continue through "Black Market", and while I know that isn't exactly a favourite episode for a lot of people - including myself! - I felt that the context was important here, so I decided to include some of the canonical material. Also, there's a scene in here which in canon took place aboard _Cloud Nine_ , but in this fic said scene is shifted to the _Rising Star_ , mainly because Lee's circumstances are a little different in the IU 'verse.

"Hey, Lee."

Uncertainly, he peeked around the curtain. Lords only knew why she wanted him there — if Lee had been her, he would have made sure someone like him was as far away as possible. But no, apparently she'd asked for him specifically. Kara was obviously a lot more forgiving than he'd thought.

"This is a familiar scene." Lee made his way tentatively to her bedside. "Reminds me of that first night here, actually."

"Yeah."

She was smiling, but she looked uncomfortable, half-propped in the bed, her abdomen swelling out under the covers. A thick strap showed above the blanket, connected to some kind of beeping monitoring machine.

Fear gnawed at his stomach, fear and … a strange kind of anticipation. Lee settled himself in a chair next to the night table and took her hand, gently kneading her fingers. "Is this, um … it? Are you …"

He found he couldn't finish the sentence.

"False alarm," Kara replied, squeezing his hand. "At least, Cottle thinks so. He wants me on this damned monitor for another hour just to make sure." With her other arm she brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "Stupid of me, I guess. Not being able to tell contractions from indigestion." She laughed, but her heart wasn't in it.

Lee leaned forward and kissed her softly. "Hey, it's okay. I got here as soon as I could."

Her eyes raked his clothing; he was still wearing his workout gear. "I can see that."

He blushed. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Kara looked away. "To be honest, I … I wasn't even sure you'd come at all."

"I guess we have some stuff we need to talk about," Lee sighed.

Still she wouldn't meet his gaze. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Caprica, okay? My mind was just all over the place then, and … I was confused. It seemed like so damn much was happening at once. And once I got back and saw you'd missed me, I didn't want to ruin things again by talking about Sam."

He forced himself to appear neutral. "Sam?"

"Yeah." Her lips quirked upwards again, and this time the smile was genuine. "He used to play Pyramid professionally, for the Caprica Buccaneers. When the attacks happened he was holed up in the mountains with his team doing high-altitude training. That's how they managed to stay alive, because they didn't come down until the ambient radiation subsided. They've set up in this old high school outside Delphi, or at least they were there the last time I saw him. They were trying to disrupt the Cylons any way they could, hitting arms depots, heavy Raiders, other targets they thought they could get away with."

Lee nodded, absorbing this information.

"I made a promise to Sam, Lee," Kara continued quietly, absentmindedly stroking his thumb. "I told him before I left that I'd come back with a rescue party and get him and the rest of the Resistance off Caprica. And I've tried … I have tried _so_ hard to make it happen because I promised him, and — I couldn't live with myself if I just left him to die there. Your dad and Roslin say it's too risky. Both times I talked to them they gave me the brush-off. Cain was interested, but it's not exactly going to happen, since she's dead. And …" She shut her eyes abruptly, drawing deep breaths. "He's probably dead anyway, but I have to try. I have to _try_ , godsdammit!"

The monitor beeped alarmingly and Kara tensed, the strength of her grip on his hand doubling. "Hey," Lee said softly, leaning forward to stroke her cheek. He was amazed to see a tear hovering on the edge of her eyelid. "It's okay. It's okay, we'll find a way, all right? Somehow we'll find a way. After you have the baby and go back on duty we'll figure something out. I'll talk to Dad, try and make him understand. Maybe we don't have to take _Galactica_ , maybe Gaeta can figure out some way of extending the FTL capabilities of Raptors, to jump us back …"

He trailed off, realizing she wasn't listening anymore. Her whole body seemed to clench up, and she bit her lip so fiercely he thought she was going to draw blood.

"Kara, what's wrong? Is — is the baby coming, should I get Cottle?" Lee half-rose in his chair, ready to dash from the cubicle at any moment. He was aware he sounded panicked, but couldn't help himself.

She grabbed for his arm, restraining him. "'S all right, Lee … he's just — stretching."

Lee blinked. "Stretching?"

"Locked his legs. Won't move." Kara leaned forward over her stomach, now prodding it with both hands. Her breath panted out noisily, and Lee rose again, this time to slip his free arm around her shoulders.

After another moment she sighed, relaxing back against him. "Little frakker usually likes to do that when I'm trying to sleep," muttered Kara. "He's getting so big, there's not much room in there anymore."

"It'll be over soon," Lee said consolingly. He stroked her shoulder, fingers kneading the tension softly.

She snorted. "For you, maybe. I _wish_ the kid had come today. Even though we're not ready yet."

"Yeah, Dad told me you were getting some things brought over from the _Rising Star_." He shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, the things I said in the bunkroom … they were stupid, I wasn't thinking. I'd just heard some stuff in the head about you and Sam, and I jumped to conclusions. Dumb conclusions."

" _Very_ dumb conclusions," Kara told him. "Lee, I only told Cain about Sam to throw her off the trail and you know that. Your father was right, she would never have let us serve on the same ship if she thought there was something going on between us. I got Ishay to confirm what I said."

"Kara, you didn't have to protect me."

"But I wanted to," she said simply.

He couldn't help smiling. Ever since he'd told her on Colonial Day that he loved her, a part of him had wanted to hear her say it back, to see the look in her eyes when she did. But given how that encounter had turned out, Lee wasn't exactly in a rush to force Kara into anything. She responded so badly when cornered.

This, though … this was tantamount to the same thing, though not in so many words. She was admitting that she needed him, that perhaps she felt for him even a small fraction of love, of caring, of belonging. The thought warmed him, made him prickle all over.

"Look, I … I'm wondering if there's anything I can help with, any supplies I can pick up," Lee said hesitantly. "I know the crib's taken care of, but maybe some of the other stuff …"

"Sure, if you can track them down. Your dad has a list." Kara looked away. "And, um, there's something else I've been meaning to ask you."

"Shoot."

"He and I have been talking about living arrangements after the kid's born, since obviously I can't stay in the bunkroom," she began. "And he says that since a lot of the larger rooms are unoccupied, he'd be willing to put me up there. So I thought maybe you and I could …"

Immediately the conversation he'd had with his father pushed its way into Lee's mind. "Those are _married_ quarters, Kara."

"I'm not proposing, Lee," Kara said tiredly. "You and I both know we're not ready for that. I just think that if we're going to do this together, you've got to be a part of it all the time, not just when you've frakked up and you're feeling guilty about it. Kids notice if their father's never there." She smiled wanly. "Trust me, I know, and you should too."

He thought back to what she'd told him in the bunkroom, about her own absent father and the way her mother had treated her, and he felt sick again. Lee had wondered previously about Kara's resistance to parenthood, whether it was rooted in some incident from her youth, but he'd never imagined that it could be worse than his own situation, far worse. She was right: his father had never locked him in a closet, nor had his mother raised so much as a hand to him and Zak. For all of her faults, Caroline Adama always maintained that she didn't believe in spanking, or any other form of physical punishment, and that what such practices taught children was that it was okay for someone big and strong to hurt someone else small and vulnerable. Better still, she practiced what she preached, when she was inebriated as well as when she was sober.

Yet Kara had apparently not benefited from that kind of approach to parenting. Lee's gaze found her fingers, and he tried to imagine the little girl she had been, and what type of mother would intentionally break those fingers. How could any sane person possibly think that was an appropriate method of discipline, no matter the crime that precipitated it? Nothing justified cruelty like that.

Her hand twitched against the blanket, and he found himself moving to grasp it, to squeeze it.

"I need to think about it, all right?" he said finally. "I'm not saying no, so I don't want you to believe that. I just want to make sure that this is really best for everyone. That we're not rushing into it."

Lee expected her to protest, but she didn't. Kara just nodded her head and smiled. Maybe it was all she'd expected to get from him anyway. He really did need some time to think. Time to clear his mind.

Time to decide, he realized, what he wanted the rest of his life to look like.

***

As promised, Kara was released from sickbay an hour later, and Lee insisted on accompanying her back to the bunkroom even though she insisted right back that she didn't need a babysitter. He knew that was true, but the guilt still gnawed away at him, and he was determined to at least try and make it up to her. He didn't feel quite brave enough to ask about her mother yet, and promised himself that he would at some later point. It was something they needed to talk about.

While Lee didn't relish returning to his father's office to ask about the list of baby supplies, he also understood that doing so might be the first step towards fixing things, repairing the situation he'd screwed up so badly. So, summoning a courage and bravado he didn't feel, Lee visited the Admiral as soon as he got off-duty.

The younger man did not appreciate the look of triumph on Adama's face, like his father had won some secret battle they'd been unknowingly waging. It made him feel manipulated, used, and while that sensation wasn't exactly alien to Lee, it constituted yet more proof that Dad always got what he wanted in the end. Like other people were just puppets on strings, waiting to be jerked around to do Bill Adama's bidding.

He hated that his father knew him well enough to understand that manipulation would work.

Nevertheless, Lee was determined not to back down from the decision he'd made, so when Dad told him that they hadn't been able to get the crib yet because of scheduling conflicts and supply mix-ups, and asked if he would kindly call up a Raptor to the _Rising Star_ and go collect the piece of furniture, he agreed, and said that he would leave immediately.

After checking on Kara one last time — she was resting comfortably in her bunk, fast asleep — Lee headed to the hangar deck and caught the next Raptor out, explaining to those who asked that he had an errand to run. He had little doubt that the rumours would flare anew once he returned to _Galactica_ with a crib in tow, but until then, there was nothing to say he couldn't put off the gossipmongers for as long as possible.

Once aboard the _Rising Star_ , he made his way to the designated room with relative ease. The woman offering the crib, a green-eyed blonde of medium height who introduced herself as Shevon, explained that her daughter Paya had recently graduated to an adult bed, so she had asked around to see if anyone needed the piece of baby furniture. Space was tight, which Lee could plainly see, and Shevon said they were moving on to a different ship anyway, so they had to try and get rid of as many excess items as they could.

Lee nodded in all the right places, smiling as he made sure all parts of the crib were present and safely packed away.

"So is this for your wife, or a girlfriend …?"

He blinked up at her, lost in his own thoughts for a moment. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Um …" Lee paused, the question having momentarily tripped him up. He still hadn't quite decided what label best fit the relationship that he and Kara shared. They weren't married, so she wasn't his wife. Yet _girlfriend_ did not seem adequate to convey the truth of her either. "Just somebody very, very important to me," he said finally. "She — she's having our baby, and it's complicated." Lee offered an apologetic smile.

"Well, I think she's very lucky to have someone like you," Shevon told him. "Paya's father …" She glanced toward her little girl, playing in the next room. "I never really knew which one he was. Hard to hit up somebody for support payments when it's like that."

Lee almost asked for further clarification, but the truth hit him like an anvil. He'd passed the phalanx of women outside almost without giving them a second glance. Now he understood.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"It's fine." She smiled wanly. "Captain Adama, when your baby's crying because it's hungry, you'll do anything to make it stop."

 _Still, what a horrible thing to have to resort to_ , Lee thought. An image of Kara pushed its way into his mind, Kara among the women outside, Kara having to sell her body to provide for her child. In a way, her current situation put her among the most fortunate women in the fleet. Aboard _Galactica_ , there was never a shortage of food, water, medicine or other essentials for the pilots, and one didn't need to worry about not having enough money to afford those things. Their child would be born in sickbay, attended by expert medical professionals, and would have the best possible start in life.

The baby's stomach would always be full. He or she would never want for anything, except perhaps sunlight and flowers. But the things that were important, like love and security and … and _two_ parents, would not be an issue. Not that Lee maligned Shevon in any way. In fact, he believed she was quite courageous, raising her child by herself with practically no support. But it had to be hard.

He taped the final box just as Paya hurried into the room, her arms outstretched toward her mother. Shevon smiled at the girl, hugging her. "Paya, honey, this nice man is going to take your baby bed away now, because you are so big you don't need it anymore."

Paya shook her head. "No, want!" she exclaimed, stretching an arm out to the boxes assembled on the floor.

Lee offered what he hoped was a warm smile. "Paya, you know what? I work with a lady who is going to have a baby, and she asked me to try and find somewhere for the baby to sleep. And your mom said that I could have the crib you used to use, but I want to ask you too. Is it okay if I take that one?"

The girl paused, tilting her head in consideration, then buried her face in her mother's embrace. "NO!"

She raced from the room.

"Oh, Paya." Shevon sighed, turning her attention back to Lee. "I'm sorry, she … she's a little suspicious of strangers sometimes."

"It's okay," Lee told her, though the encounter was hardly comforting. "I've never been great with kids. I don't know why, they just — they just don't like me."

Shevon offered an easy smile, reading his thoughts exactly. "I wouldn't worry about it. It's different when they're your own. You … _bond_ with them, and it almost doesn't matter if you're a little uncomfortable. As long as you do your best, that's all anyone can ask."

He smiled back and nodded, acknowledging that she was probably far more experienced in this area. "Yeah, I'm just hoping that when the baby's born he or she doesn't start crying practically the second I hold —"

Lee was interrupted by a sharp tapping on the door. "That'll be Lieutenant Agathon; he offered to help me get this back to …"

The words died in his throat as the door burst open and a big, burly man crashed in, a man who was most certainly not Helo. The intruder did not waste any time, rushing Lee and slamming him into the opposite wall, scattering the boxes. All the breath left Lee's lungs and he huffed out a gasp, caught by surprise, unable to stop the man from binding him in a headlock. Somewhere in the background he could hear Shevon shouting, hurrying for her child, and still he tried to fill protesting lungs, tried and failed.

"Get away from us!" Shevon cried.

Something wrapped around Lee's neck, something hard and cold. Now he really couldn't breathe, and the fight abruptly left him as his assailant tugged him over to a corner of the room. Lee tried to glance around, tried to look for the woman and her daughter, but he couldn't see them, had no idea what was happening to them. Shevon wasn't screaming anymore.

Spots of black began to darken his vision, and suddenly a new face loomed over him.

"You listening?" a deep voice hissed. "I hear any more talk about Fisk, I'm going to find your girlfriend on your big fancy ship, and send her back to you piece … by piece. And then I'm going to start with your kid. I know who you are. I know who you're seeing. I know whose son you are. And I don't care. You tell Adama to let it go."

Pinwheels of light burst behind Lee's eyeballs and he knew he had perhaps only a few seconds remaining of consciousness. He clawed frantically at his neck, trying to loosen whatever was choking him. Someone kicked him and he doubled over, crashing through an ornate glass table.

His eyes shut, and he knew no more.

***

"One to the head," the security officer mused, examining a corpse near the crib boxes. "You didn't do this?"

Lee rubbed at his neck, massaging the area where the piano wire had cut into it. "I was attacked," he said hoarsely. "Found him there when I woke up."

"Security bulletin said Commander Fisk was garroted with a wire. Whatever happened, looks like you found your guy."

"What about the woman and her daughter?" Lee asked worriedly.

The officer shrugged. "The _Rising Star_ 's a busy place. Chances are they're already off-ship. I'll get a team down here." He headed for the door, nodding at the tall man who'd just entered. "Councilman Zarek."

Zarek nodded back curtly, then moved further into the room. "Lee, I just heard. Are you all right?"

"What are you doing here?" Lee eyed him suspiciously.

"Catching a connecting flight to _Cloud Nine_ to attend a Quorum meeting," Zarek explained. "Nothing as exciting as all this, I assure you. I know these places are legal, but still, the son of the almighty Adama —"

The younger man clenched his teeth. "Mr. Zarek, that was not my intention in coming here. I was picking up a crib that she had offered up for sale."

Zarek actually looked surprised. "A crib?"

"Kara's about to have a baby, so we're trying to collect some furniture and supplies before she gives birth. The woman who lived here had a crib she wanted to get rid of. I just came to pick it up."

"I see." The Sagittaron delegate did not look convinced.

Lee fixed him with a glare. "Talk to me about the black market."

"Not much to say," Zarek shrugged. "It's widespread, inevitable and, according to President Roslin … illegal."

"So it's no surprise you and Fisk were in it up to your necks."

"Fisk, maybe, but not me. I represent _Astral Queen_. I have to be careful about the company I keep."

Lee started to pace, piling the crib boxes together while he talked. "I looked at Fisk's log. He says he made three runs to _Astral Queen_ in the last ten days, and I doubt it was to discuss prison reform."

Now Zarek glared right back. "What do you want from me, Captain?"

"Names of ships. Contacts." The younger man straightened. "Tom, those men threatened Kara. They said they knew where she was, that they were going to take her and the baby if I didn't let it go. That is —" A clench rose unexpectedly in his chest, and he had to swallow hard before continuing. "That is _my_ child they're talking about. _Our_ child. And maybe that doesn't mean much to you, but it means something to me and it means a hell of a lot to Kara. So please …"

"I can't help you." Zarek shook his head regretfully. "Why do you think Fisk approached me?"

"To get a piece of your black market scam," Lee spat. "To offer you protection."

"You and your father are so blinded by the past," the Sagittaron delegate replied. "Fisk's black market was up and running when he approached me. He knew Adama would pick up on his unauthorized shuttles, so he tried to force me into taking over the deliveries, creating a firewall between _Pegasus_ and the illegal shipments."

Lee chewed his lip, absorbing these new details. "So you're trying to tell me that you turned him down."

"At great cost. Check the fleet logs. See how many supply ships made stops at the _Astral Queen_ after Fisk's last trip. The answer is none."

"But if Fisk was trying to starve you out, why didn't you bring it to the Quorum?" asked Lee.

"Roslin's acting like the black market's some sort of aberration, but I thought you were smarter than that." Zarek snorted derisively. "Did you really expect some utopian fantasy to rise from the ashes? I heard the security officer. They gave you Fisk's killer for a reason, and they threatened you with what you most fear losing to convince you. They're offering you a way out."

The words of the large man with the deep voice hit Lee again like another punch to the gut. _I'm going to find your girlfriend on your big fancy ship, and send her back to you piece … by piece._ Could they really get to Kara? Did they actually have a way? He would never have thought they'd find and kill Fisk, yet they had. True, he had been dealing with them directly, but … he suspected nothing was impossible for those thugs, not if they knew the right people and had the right connections.

Which brought him full-circle back to Zarek. "You know something, don't you?" Lee accused in a low voice.

"Just rumours." The man wouldn't meet his eye now, all his bravado seemingly erased. "There's a freighter, _Prometheus_. Some people say it's gone off the grid. But if you want something bad enough, that's where you go. The deals are brokered by an ex-military mercenary named Phelan."

Zarek paused, then fixed Lee with a penetrating stare.

"Lee, I hope she's worth it."


	25. Chapter 25

He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, massaging them firmly with the backs of his hands. Stared towards the cold cup of coffee, wondering if it was worth it to take a sip. Probably not. The coffee they brewed nowadays tended to taste like the bottom of an old sock drawer at the best of times, and this mug had been sitting around for at least four hours or so.

Lee wished he could sleep. But every time he settled himself on the ancient cracked leather couch in his office, his mind refused to shut down, the same thoughts tumbling around like dogs chasing their tails. Most of those thoughts went straight back to Kara. Kara and the baby.

The words of the report he was supposed to be reading blurred together, and Lee slapped the folder shut in frustration. It was difficult to care about fuel rationing at a time like this, but he had far too much work to do to waste precious minutes sleeping, or worse, agonizing over the decisions he needed to make.

He'd seen Kara once since returning from the _Rising Star_ , but it had been from across the rec room and she was clearly busy, engaged in a heated conversation with Maggie Edmondson. He thought of stopping and reminding her to take it easy, but upon further contemplation had changed his mind and simply continued to his original destination. It was more than his life was worth to tell Starbuck she should rest amidst a room full of her fellow pilots.

In any case, it was probably better that way. Lee had seen Cottle and received a clean bill of health, aside from a bruised neck and a wrenched shoulder, but he didn't want Kara to hear a word about the incident. Especially not the fact that she'd been threatened, repeatedly and with clear intent. She would laugh it off, of course, and probably promise to kick the guy's ass, but they both knew she had little chance of making good on that promise in her current condition.

He didn't like the idea that Kara could be vulnerable. It scared him.

Lee stretched, leaning back in his chair, and the shoulder protested furiously. He winced and rotated it experimentally. Gods, he'd have some bruises from this one. Anti-inflammatory pills were scarce, worse than scarce, so he would just need to suck it up. Funny how that always sounded a lot better in theory than in practice.

The shoulder was yet another reason why sleeping on his couch — or assuming a horizontal position at all, really — was probably not the best idea right now.

What the hell was he going to do?

Kara had all but asked him to move in with her. And then there was the small matter of the _Prometheus_. He wasn't sure how to use the information Zarek had given him. Should he go there alone, try to reason with this Phelan? (Probably not a good idea, given how that one thug had managed to take him apart earlier.) Or should he take a detachment of Marines, weapons, burst in there with guns blazing? (Likely not a smart plan either if he wanted to avoid attracting undue attention.) Clearly he had to do _something_ , for the sake of both Kara and their child. Besides, his father had ordered him to investigate Fisk's murder, and this was where the clues were leading. To take no action would be flying in the face of the oath he had taken as an officer in the Colonial Fleet.

Okay, so he'd go over to the _Prometheus_. Then what? How did one go about shutting down a black market that, according to Zarek, was thriving? Was it as simple as negotiating, pointing out to Phelan the damage that was done when prices for food and essential medicine were driven up so high? Surely not. The man no doubt enjoyed his profits, and would not want to see them be cut off. And if Phelan was a former mercenary, he'd be tough to crack. Lee would be seen as coming from a position of privilege, possessing all the resources he could want on _Galactica_ , and unable to comprehend the plight of a Colonial citizen who had to scratch and claw their way from meal to meal, illness to illness, day to day.

Phelan had threatened Kara, Lee realized, because there was nothing else in his life that could be taken away and mean so much. The mercenary couldn't steal _Galactica_ 's food stores, or poison the water, or raid sickbay and deprive him of medicine. Instead, the man had seen right to Lee's heart, and told him that he would take away the two people most essential to his well-being. Without those two people, Lee would be nothing.

 _Without Kara, without the baby, I would be nothing._

He swallowed, scrubbing a hand over his face again as the thought hit him.

It wasn't as simple as the oft-uttered romance phrase _I can't live without you_. No, that just made it sound petty and immature. But Lee was suddenly certain that if he couldn't see Kara every day, if he couldn't be involved in his child's life, if he couldn't wake up to her each morning and sleep beside her at night, a part of him would cease to exist. He would go on living, walking, working. You could stay physically alive as long as your heart kept beating and your lungs kept breathing. But he would be diminished. Incomplete.

Empty.

He'd first understood this while watching Kara being loaded onto a stretcher after her return from the desert moon, Lee realized. He'd understood it again after his father was shot. But each time, the fears had overwhelmed rational thought. He needed Kara, but it seemed far more important to honour frat regs and to stop her from running off. He needed Kara, but she was pregnant and kids were something he'd never wanted. He needed Kara, but he would never deserve her because he had failed her so many times. He needed Kara, but there was always a _but_.

Now, though, if he didn't do as he had promised so many times, if he _didn't_ seize the moment and stand up and declare _Yes, I want to be with her and nothing is going to stop me_ , declare that once and for all, he _would_ lose her. It might be Phelan's fault. Or it might be Sam, if Kara was able to rescue him from Caprica and she then decided she really loved the Pyramid player more. Or it might be the rogue Cylon Raider that picked her off during a dogfight once she went back on duty. No matter what it was, the result would be the same. He would be without her, and there would be _no_ chance of getting her back.

Was it really as simple as telling her what he wanted? Telling her that he'd decided, that he'd chosen her? It couldn't be.

No. No. No doubts. No questions. No fears. He'd gone through all of that before and where had it gotten him? Floating aimlessly in space, one finger plugging the hole in his flight suit, and wanting to die because he felt so inadequate. Wanting to die because, in the end, he didn't even know _what_ the hell he wanted.

Now he knew.

He knew.

It could be simple. It _was_ simple. She had been the one to make the offer, so she wasn't going to run away from it.

It was up to him.

And Lee knew exactly what he was going to do.

***

The bunkroom was quiet when he eased the hatch open. The lights had been dimmed, and the soft sounds of slumbering pilots surrounded him. Most of them tended to sleep like the dead, mainly because the shifts were so long and the other duties so extensive, and the downtime so little. You took advantage of whatever you could get, whenever you could get it, and Lee didn't want to wake anyone.

Especially not for this.

He stopped by Kara's rack, watching her sleep as he undressed. Her features were peaceful, relaxed, so different from the little frown she'd worn on _Cloud Nine_. She had both arms clasped over her abdomen again in a surprisingly protective gesture, one he wouldn't have believed she'd make. Idly he wondered if the baby was kicking, even now, even as Kara slept. Could it be awake when she was not? She'd talked about it stretching and moving when she was trying to settle down, but did their sleep patterns align?

Clad only in regulation boxers now, Lee slid carefully in next to her, tucking his head under her chin and curling his body around hers. He pulled the curtain fully closed, ignoring the way his shoulder barked at him. No need for the others to find him like this when they woke up in the morning. It seemed like this moment should be between only Kara and only Lee, their first step to forming a family.

He felt drowsiness overtaking him at last, the desire to give into rest finally eclipsing his aches and pains. From this position he could hear Kara's heart beating, a steady _thud-thump_ against his cheek.

Gently, so as not to wake her, Lee let his hand drift from the top of her abdomen down to the middle, near her navel, and splayed his fingers against her creamy skin. He waited … one beat … another … another … then — _there_.

At first a flutter, soft as a butterfly's wings, so soft he was sure he'd simply imagined it. But it grew stronger, more certain, a poke and a genuine jab, from inside her body. Then, for just a brief moment, Lee could see what his own father had witnessed: a tiny foot, outlined in Kara's skin, pushing up through her, pounding away. He held his breath and reached out a finger, tremulously, to touch it. Stroke it. Feel it.

The foot vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but he felt awestruck. He'd never really _done_ this before, though Kara had encouraged him to, in the rare moments when she was feeling particularly generous. He hadn't seen the child move, glimpsed proof of the life he had helped to create. Kara was doing all the heavy lifting, of course. Her body had built the baby, made it and sheltered it for nine months. Next to that, his contribution seemed woefully insignificant, hardly worth a mention.

But this was their child. Hers. And his.

He wasn't too late.

***

As she awoke the next morning, Kara was instantly aware of a presence.

Well. _Another_ presence. The baby was a presence all by himself, and he never hesitated to remind her of that. Now, he was active within her already. The kid didn't have much room to kick anymore, but he could stretch, and he could squirm. He was doing it now, fiercely. She felt like she had a live snake wriggling around her insides.

But there was somebody else in the bunk with her, somebody who, unlike the baby, most definitely had not been there the night before. This someone was curled up against her, hand on her stomach, head pillowed on her chest.

It was Lee.

Kara blinked, blinked again, and for a moment was convinced she must still be dreaming. He'd never actually slept beside her of his own accord, _never_ — even the mini-holiday on _Cloud Nine_ had been all her idea, and the times they'd "slept together," they hadn't actually _slept_. But now, here he was. Here he was, his dark hair tickling her neck, legs entwined with hers, one arm thrown uncomfortably back over his shoulder while the other cradled her abdomen. That was perhaps the most surprising thing. All the times she'd asked him if he wanted to feel the baby kicking, he had either declined or done it grudgingly, apparently just to satisfy her. Kara was still not too enamored of that particular sensation herself, but wasn't it what fathers were supposed to go nuts over? The elder Adama certainly had, in his own way. The Admiral's eyes hadn't sparkled that way since … since … well, actually she couldn't remember when. Maybe after his son had come back from the tylium mission a few months after the worlds ended. Possibly when he reunited with Lee on Kobol. But certainly not after that.

Lee stirred briefly, burrowing more deeply into her chest with a soft sigh. Gods, even in his sleep he was attracted to her breasts. Well, he'd have to get used to sharing them pretty soon. For that matter, so would she. When Kara had complained to Cottle during one of her appointments that her rack was strictly for decorative purposes, and always had been, he retorted that neither her body nor the baby would care about that. Artificial formula was so scarce throughout the fleet that almost all new mothers breastfed their kids, unless they were medically unable to. The formula stores were being saved for those women who couldn't breastfeed because it would be dangerous to either themselves or their babies. And Kara, Cottle assured her, did not fall into that category.

It would be a difficult adjustment, but then, what on this weird, frakked-up journey _hadn't_ been?

Kara stretched, looked between them, and snickered. Seemed like the Arrow of Apollo was already awake. Lee had chosen to wear boxers to bed — pity — but that didn't mean she couldn't have some fun. His scent was bugging her again. This close, if she just bent her head forward a little, she could _almost_ bury her nose in his hair. Which seemed like a really stupid thing to do, but gods, it was tempting. She felt herself getting wet, already.

Okay. _Definitely_ time to have fun.

Stealthily she unwound one of her legs from his, draping it up and over his body to bring him into even closer contact. Kara pivoted her hips slightly, carefully, just — _there_. He was nudging her entrance now, nudging but not going further, and that was how she wanted it. She rubbed against him, pressing them together, and gently squeezed just the tip of him through his shorts. Damn those shorts.

He hardened further, now fully firm, his body beginning to react to her ministrations. Lee uttered a soft, needy moan, and she had to stifle a gasp of her own at the sound. He was certainly into it, groin thrusting towards hers, seeking stimulation. _The guy probably thinks he's having a really amazing dream_ , Kara thought. _Well, he started it_.

Her hand snaked between them and reached into his shorts, wrapping cool fingers around him and squeezing hard, once. He gasped breathily, thrust into her hand, rubbed against her palm, again, again, again. He had to be getting there, had to be close, and she confirmed it, sliding a finger across the slit at the end of his length and feeling moisture there.

 _Okay, flyboy. Time to wake up._

"Hey," Kara whispered in his ear, simultaneously removing her hand from his boxers. "Rise and shine, Apollo." She looked down again as Lee stirred. "Actually, forget the _rise_ part, you've got that covered."

His eyes flew open just as she'd begun to stroke his cheek, and Lee glanced wildly around for a moment, his breath panting out in shallow gasps. "Dammit, Kara, I was _sleeping!_ "

"Well, part of you was," she amended. "Can't say the same for the other part, though …"

"That was a good dream," he accused. "A _really_ good dream!"

"Yeah, I know." Her eyes sparkled.

"Then why did you —" Lee broke off with a sigh, shaking his head. "Forget it. I don't want to start an argument."

"Good plan."

They were speaking in whispers, partially so as not to wake the others, and partially so that those others wouldn't be compelled to eavesdrop.

He pressed a light kiss to her breast, his tongue flicking out to lick at her nipple. "Look, um —" Lee shifted uncomfortably.

"You were having a mind-blowingly amazing sex dream and you were just about to come but then you woke up?" Kara filled in. "And now what you really want to say is 'Kara, we have to frak right now because otherwise I'm going to explode'?"

Lee blushed, right to his ears. "Crass, Kara."

She grinned. "I aim to please."

He rolled his eyes, then made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sigh as she moved against him. "Okay, but … but we have to talk. I want to tell you why I ended up sleeping in your bunk like this."

"Oh, so it _wasn't_ for a late-night booty call?" Kara snickered. "Do tell, Apollo."

Silence. She could hear him swallowing convulsively, obviously fighting to regain control of himself.

Just for shits and giggles, Kara decided to needle him a bit more. "Thought you wanted to talk, Lee."

"Yeah, but —"

"So, talk."

Finally, deliciously, he cracked. "Not — not like this. Frak it, I can't — can't concentrate like this, I need …"

"To get laid?" she supplied.

"Well —"

But she was through waiting, through humouring him like this. Kara would never have said so, but he was affecting her just as much as she was affecting him, and a quick lay seemed like the best idea she'd heard in a long time. It occurred to her that this might be the last sex she would have before the baby was born, which was … distressing. Cottle had told her, when she'd asked, that her body wouldn't be physically ready for intercourse until about six weeks after the birth, and that her interest in sex might be nonexistent for far longer. Kara found that difficult to imagine with somebody like Lee around, but on the other hand … how romantic could things really get when your tits were dripping with milk? Disgusting.

And why was she thinking in terms of _romance?_ That was doubly disgusting.

She shook her head to dislodge that thought and turned her attention back to Lee, who had the look of someone trying not to appear impatient but failing miserably. "This'll be easier if you climb over me, stud. I'm not exactly maneuverable these days."

He nodded, pondered the logistics for a moment and then acted, carefully moving on top of her and back down in the small bunk while Kara slid forward to give him room. Now his warmth was behind her, and just as he had on _Cloud Nine_ , Lee quickly shed his boxers and found the right position for what they wanted. It was awkward — she was far too close to the edge of the rack, and the shelves of her bunk were probably jabbing his kidneys — but none of that mattered to either of them once he gripped her hip and, in one smooth motion, sheathed himself fully inside her. They sighed in unison, deeply, and Lee took another shuddery breath as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"This … is going to be — embarrassingly short," he ground out in a whisper.

"So, finish," Kara smirked. "You've never been known for your endurance."

She couldn't see his face, but felt sure he was rolling his eyes at her words. Kara just kept smiling; it was far too much fun to bug him about sex, mainly because he was always such a prude about it.

Her focus went back to Lee then, to the way he was setting a steady pace from the start, clearly hoping he could pick up wherever his dream had left off. She was relaxing into it, pushing back against him, both trying as hard as they could to keep silent, no noise in the bunk except for the soft slide of skin on skin. He didn't pull out completely each time he thrust, instead burying himself to the hilt, moving back just slightly and then sinking in again. Kara was close now, so close … almost there, heat spreading fire through the pit of her stomach, sweat beading on her brow, and she was about to tell him to touch her, somewhere, _anywhere_ — but abruptly Lee groaned quietly and there was a rush of warm wet, and he stilled.

" _Damn_ ," she muttered, feeling the climax just out of reach, narrowly inaccessible, like something you couldn't quite pull off a high shelf. If he'd just held on for a _second_ more — but he hadn't, and he was kissing her shoulder, burying his nose in her hair and she had half a mind to punch him, godsdammit.

But Kara didn't … because his hands were moving: one to her breasts, strumming a nipple erect, and the other down to where they were still joined, combing through the curls between her legs before pressing, _oh gods pressing_ , her clit and the heat in her stomach flared right back up and she had to bite her tongue to stifle what would have been a loud gasp. Half the thrill of this was keeping quiet, but it was _hard_. Almost impossible, since she liked to be noisy and she knew he liked to hear her, especially when she said his name (and _oh, just there_ ) — other people were moving in the bunkroom, getting up as Gaeta blared reveille over the speakers — she was wiggling, writhing — how could they not know what was going on, how Lee was making her shatter — this much energy could not be contained, it had to break free — somehow — somewhere — close — he slipped his hand over her mouth — pressed — just — there — _oh_.

Kara's eyes slid closed, the wet heat of his palm sweaty against her lips, and she breathed in, one long silent inhalation. His scent filled her and she unspooled, over, over, over, the universe snapping into white-hot focus as she came down.

The hatch clanked shut. Quiet.

She wanted to see him now, face him, so she turned awkwardly as he pulled out, tried to twist her boneless body to the left, overcorrected and nearly fell out of her rack. By the time Kara righted herself Lee was shaking with silent laughter, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"And just what exactly is so funny?" she hissed.

"You're always so graceful in the air," he managed, "but now, well, you're —"

" _What?_ "

A snort of laughter escaped him. "Clumsy."

"If you want to live long enough to meet your kid, you'll take that back," Kara growled.

"No takebacks!" Lee said triumphantly, grinning. "I can't take it back. There's no takebacks."

Now she did slug him, square on his shoulder, and while Kara was careful not to use _too_ much force — she still wanted him in one piece so she could rip him to shreds during the birth, after all — he winced, his eyes squeezing shut with apparent pain.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, anger replaced by concern.

"It's nothing," he told her quickly, his hand coming up to cradle the offending shoulder, massage it lightly. "Just a wrenched shoulder, that's all."

But Lee had tilted his head up along with his arm, and Kara now noticed something that he'd evidently been very careful to hide before: an ugly red bruise across his throat, going right up to his ears, parts of it already turning yellow and purple. Her breath caught in her chest as she examined it. It was _deep_ , cutting right into his flesh, practically breaking the skin.

"My gods, Lee, what the hell happened to you?" Kara whispered.

It looked like someone had tried to decapitate him.

"Huh?" He blinked, staring in apparent confusion at her expression, and then followed her gaze to his neck. "Oh, that. Just — there was an incident on the _Rising Star_ , that's all. Nothing to worry about."

"Doesn't seem like nothing to me!" she shot back, and indeed it didn't: since she was looking, she could also see several more cuts and bruises on his face, a bloody, stitched gash above his right eye, a smashed finger on the hand still holding his shoulder. "What, did you have to fight off an army of toasters for the crib or something?"

"No, no," Lee assured her. "Look, I … I wasn't going to even tell you about this —"

"Tell me." Kara glared.

"Fine." He sighed. "All right, well, you know how my father put me in charge of the investigation into Fisk's murder?" (She nodded.) "The crib he sent me to pick up was previously owned by a woman named Shevon. While I was in her room on the _Rising Star_ , three men broke in, and one of them tried to garrote me the way they did to Fisk. All of them were connected with the black market, and they knew about the investigation, they knew about the questions I'd been asking. Phelan is the guy who runs it — Tom Zarek said after that he's an ex-military mercenary — and he told me that … that, um …" At this Lee scrubbed his hand over his face, shuddering slightly. "That he knew about us, he knew you're carrying my child, and that if I kept up the investigation he was going to find you and kill you. That's the last thing I remember before I passed out."

She took his hand, kissing the injured finger gently. "Listen, don't believe any of that crap, okay? I'd love to see a guy like him get onto _Galactica_ and try and find me. I'd put his ass through the bulkhead." Kara grinned.

"Gods, don't say that." He shuddered again. "These men — they're _serious_ , Kara. They really aren't playing around."

"Well, neither am I."

Lee huffed out a breath. "This is _exactly_ why I didn't want to tell you! I knew you'd get like this, I knew you'd think you could take them on, and you _can't_ , Kara! You can't! Okay? I am completely fit and in top shape and they had me strangled and gagged in a second!"

"Only because you weren't expecting it!" she argued. "If I know they're coming, I'm not gonna let them get that far!"

"You may not have a choice!"

"Lee, I will be _fine_ ," Kara snapped, not bothering to hide her irritation. "I told you not to frakking take care of me and I _meant_ it!"

His eyes turned pleading. "I'm not trying to take care of you. I'm trying to take care of my daughter," Lee said quietly, slipping his hand down to her abdomen.

Kara blinked, having been fully prepared to continue their argument and instead finding her mind thrown off entirely. "Daughter?"

He seemed to realize suddenly what he'd said, and averted his eyes. "Or son," he amended.

"But … you want it to be a girl," she ventured.

"Well …" Still Lee wouldn't look at her. "Yeah. I guess. I, um … ever since you told me, when I thought about it … which wasn't a lot, but … when I did think about it, I always imagined a girl. A little girl who looks just like you."

"Gods, let's hope not," Kara joked, but he didn't return her smile.

"Kara, I need her to be okay. And for her to be okay, until she's born, you need to be okay, because she can't exist without you right now. She needs you. And …"

Lee broke off abruptly, his hand going to his face again, brushing over it, breath shaky. She sensed she was getting closer to the truth, closer to the _real_ reason why he'd crawled into her bunk last night. It sure as hell hadn't been for a booty call.

"Lee, what the frak is this about?" Kara asked. "What is this _really_ about?"

"You asked me a question, Kara." He grabbed one of her hands, unexpectedly. "You asked me a question back in sickbay. And I realized I had a decision to make too. Maybe not like yours, not like the one you had to make about the baby. But it's something I've been dancing around ever since that first night. I had to decide where I really wanted this to go. I had to decide if it was worth it to overcome history, because right from the first, you've always belonged to somebody else."

Now she was the one to turn away, to cast her eyes toward the rack above. Looking, she realized, for an escape. "Don't do this."

"I'm sorry, but it's the truth." His voice was apologetic, determined. "You were untouchable, Kara, right from the time I met you. I had to come to terms with that, and I didn't do a very good job. I've told you how I took care of Zak, so it was impossible for me knowing how I was betraying him just by thinking the things I did —"

"Yeah, and you think it was easy for _me?_ " interrupted Kara, anger burning red again. "You think _any_ of this has been easy? I'm the one who has to live with it, Lee, every day! I killed him, and you know that. I put him into that cockpit. I told myself I was never going to get involved with any pilot ever again and especially not with you because I couldn't stand to frak up your family any more than I already had! I broke every promise I ever made to myself and instead of learning from those promises I just broke them all over again! I lived with the consequences the first time, and I have to live with the consequence _this_ time!" She gestured to her abdomen.

Lee shook his head. "I know. I know. I've gone through all these things, I've gone through them a thousand times. But the baby isn't a consequence. And Phelan made me realize we're playing for keeps."

"Good, at least _something_ did," she snapped. "We can't get out of this anymore, Lee! That's what you've been doing all these months, looking for some way to escape! There _is_ no way! I know because I looked for that escape myself! You can't hide from this!"

"I don't want to hide now," he said simply.

That stopped her cold.

"What?"

"I told you, Phelan made me think. He made me understand something I didn't get before. That if I don't do this now, if I keep trying to run …" Lee's voice trailed off. "I'll lose you. I'll lose the baby. And it all comes back to what happened when you went down on that moon and I had to imagine what it would be like if you died, if you weren't in my life anymore. That's why I came to sickbay that night. And that's why … that's why I came to you last night. Because I wanted to tell you that, I wanted to make sure you knew that."

Kara swallowed hard, forcing down her warring emotions. Part of her had desired this forever, since he had first climbed astride her bed in sickbay and kissed her. But it was frightening. It was petrifying, actually. All the old fears were still there, still real. Her mother, shouting that she was a cancer, that she destroyed everything she touched. For a time, that had been true. Zak had died, and she didn't think she would ever properly forgive herself for that. She didn't think she _should_. It seemed right that the penance for taking a human life should be to spend the rest of one's existence in guilty contemplation of that fact.

Now, Zak's brother was in front of her, right in front of her, blue eyes boring into hers. He was in front of her because of their child, and because she had asked him to be.

Lee softly kissed her hand. "We've gotta get what we can. Right now."

"Will you —" Her voice choked in her throat. "Will you share quarters with me?"

"Yes." His smile was genuine, wide, reassuring. "Yeah. I will."


	26. Chapter 26

The Raptor glided smoothly through the docking slot, a heavy metal door closing behind it. The _clang_ reverberated through the small tunnel, sounding … final. Frightening.

He might have chickened out right there. But he was doing this for a reason.

Of course, there had been plenty of other opportunities for Lee to chicken out. The day before, when he and Kara went to see his father to get the process started of moving from the bunkroom into a larger set of quarters. The Admiral had happily agreed, and after dismissing Kara to pack up her personal items, Adama asked his son how the investigation into Fisk's killing was going. Lee could have said he'd found the murderer and left it at that. But he hadn't. Instead he offered his superior the information about Phelan and the _Prometheus_ , and he said he would go over to check out the situation as soon as possible. Adama gave his consent.

Lee might also have reconsidered his decision that morning. Truthfully, he almost had. He and Kara had once more shared her bunk — gods, he'd be glad when they could sleep in a bigger bed again — and he awoke to find her side of it empty. He was about to go look for her when she returned, sweaty and slightly green, brushing off his questions at first but finally admitting that she didn't feel good. Lee nervously suggested sickbay, and at that Kara flatly refused. She hadn't been sleeping well, she explained somewhat testily, and all she needed was rest. She wasn't about to bug Cottle yet again for what was probably just a stupid stomach virus. And _no_ , she did _not_ want him to stick around and "take care of" her. Kara'd added that part before Lee could even open his mouth to respond.

So, he'd left. She told him to get lost, actually, accusing him of hovering. Lee supposed he had been, though it was hard _not_ to. With the birth so close, he believed privately that every symptom could be a cause for concern, and every abnormal twinge was worth verifying. Who knew what set of physical clues might portend Kara's going into labour? And he wanted to be there when it happened, dammit. Not far away on some off-the-grid freighter negotiating with a black market mercenary.

But, in the absence of anything more serious — and, well, his daughter or son — Lee had no choice but to depart _Galactica_. And here he was now, in the docking bay of the _Prometheus_.

He had conveniently neglected to inform Kara where he was going.

Lee made his way into the main area of the ship, squinting in the dim light. It resembled nothing so much as a huge marketplace, stalls set up at regular intervals throughout the cavernous space with vendors hawking their wares. Zarek's words came back to him as he wandered through.

 _If you want something bad enough, that's where you go._

It certainly looked as though the Sagittaron delegate had been right. Examining some of the tables, Lee could see everything from fresh fruit and vegetables to chocolate bars to antibiotics to children's toys, and some more exotic items like fur coats, reams of decorative paper, mattresses, sheets, and a large package full of what appeared to be feathers. There were precious objects too, gemstones and jewelry and gold cufflinks. Something to cater to every taste, and more. It wasn't difficult to see why some Colonial citizens would be attracted to this place, nor why Zarek was so convinced that it had to exist.

But when they went beyond the pale, when they started threatening those closest to you just because you were doing your job … well, that was when it got personal.

He rounded a corner and was confronted with a narrow hallway, metal doors on either side, buzzing lamps overhead providing the only source of light. Lee was about to go on, to see if this passageway would lead him to Phelan, when a sudden sound came from behind one of the doors.

It sounded like — crying. Like a child was crying.

Curious, he edged closer, peered through the door's grill.

Lee had to work to keep himself from gasping.

Packed into a tiny, dim room were dozens of kids. Ten, fifteen, twenty — he stopped counting after twenty-five, and knew he hadn't catalogued even half of them. Some were sitting on the floor; some squished against the wall, apparently trying to hide; and some peered through the grate back at him. The crying child was there, her blonde curls tousled, her face sweaty and frightened. He blinked, realizing suddenly that there was something very familiar about this little girl.

"Paya!" Lee whispered, and she looked up.

It was definitely her. He'd only seen her for a few moments in Shevon's room on the _Rising Star_ , but the blue eyes, her hair, it was unmistakable. Gods. Surely this couldn't have been what Shevon meant when she said they were moving to another ship? Surely she wasn't involved with the black market?

"Paya, hey," he continued softly, and she looked up, cheeks tearstained. "It's okay, it's Lee. You remember, right? I came to take your crib. You're gonna be fine, I promise you. I'll be right back okay? I'll be right back."

Paya didn't respond, merely continuing to stare dolefully out of the grate, more tears trickling down her cheeks. Lee wished he could touch her, wished he could offer some sort of comfort other than words. But there was no time. He had to get to the bottom of this.

With a last glance back at Paya, he headed down the passageway, emerging in a smaller open area that had the distinct look of some seedy bar. There was a counter off to the side, a bartender behind it, several tables and chairs arrayed around.

And there, against one wall, were the thugs. He recognized the man who'd choked him by his hands, his big beefy hands, and Phelan was of course an entity unto himself. Sitting there with his fingers clasped, leaning back, gazing around like he owned the place. Which, in the grand scheme of things, he probably did.

Lee swallowed. These were the men. These were the thugs who had threatened Kara, who had said they would hunt her down, kill her, kill the baby. Or — what if they didn't? What if they kept her alive, but sold her into servitude like Shevon? What if they put his child in that same room with those other kids, forced his daughter to fulfill whatever cruel purpose they had in mind?

He felt sick.

And simultaneously, the cold muzzle of a gun was pressed to his back. Forcing him to sit down.

Phelan fixed his eyes on Lee, and the latter realized that his presence had not gone unnoticed.

"You may find this hard to believe, but my father was in the service too," Phelan mused, not bothering with pleasantries. "Strict as hell. Probably the same as your old man. But, when the Cylons attacked, all his duty and honour didn't add up to squat."

"You know why I'm here," Lee snapped. "I couldn't just leave this. Not after what you said."

"I can see you care for her," his adversary nodded. "I chose a valuable bargaining chip. But then, I suppose that's why I hold the position that I do."

"I won't let you hurt her, godsdammit!"

"Yet here you are," Phelan pointed out. He paused, leaning back in his chair, a small smile forming on his face as though he was contemplating something particularly interesting. "You know, the truth is, Kara is far more valuable to me alive than she is dead. So is your child. Both would be ideally placed to satisfy certain … needs."

"Like those children, locked up in that room?" Lee spat from between clenched teeth. "Like Shevon?"

"A good escort understands it's about a lot more than sex," Phelan told him. He glanced off to the corner, and one of his men stood up and left the room. "Even when she is not working for a client, she knows when to listen. And when to call for help."

The man who had exited returned a moment later, but he was not alone. Shevon was at his elbow, looking scared and guilty. Her hands shook when she saw Lee.

"Captain, I had to," she said softly.

Sick fear overwhelmed him again. Had Shevon just been a plant? A trap designed to trick him into revealing his relationship with Kara? Gods. _Gods._

Phelan was speaking again. "Don't blame her. The only reason you and your Kara are alive is because I was able to see you through Shevon's eyes. And what I saw seemed reasonable. Not like Fisk." He paused, his upper lip curling. "Fisk was a pig. He tried to force us to renegotiate."

"So you killed him." Lee had to work to prevent his own hands from shaking.

"No, I gave you the killer, the murder weapon, the prints. Everything you needed to close the case legitimately. Despite the president's objections, the fleet needs us. Rationing's too tight, ships come in too late, we're the pressure valve, we provide. When Shevon needed medicine for her daughter, she knew where to go. Without us, people would have nowhere to turn. The fleet would tear itself apart."

Lee unlocked his jaw. "And what about those children outside? How are they helping the fleet?"

Phelan shrugged. "Everyone has needs. Some settle for cigars or liquor. Some want a woman like Shevon. Others are more demanding." The man leaned forward, placing his clasped hands flat on the table in front of him and fixing Lee with a penetrating stare. "It's hard to find the moral high ground when we're all standing in the mud. I'm not like my old man, Captain, and you are not like yours."

The other rose abruptly, almost knocking his chair over, and several of the men drew weapons. The thug who had tried to strangle him aimed directly for Lee's head.

He sat back down.

"I came alone," Lee told Phelan. "But _Galactica_ tracked me on DRADIS. All they'll need to vent this ship into space is an excuse." He leaned towards Phelan now, just as the other man had done. "So let's make a deal. I want Kara left alone. I want my child left alone. I take Shevon and the girl. I walk out of here, and you shut down this operation. And all of you will live."

A cruel smile twisted the ex-mercenary's face. "Sorry, the little girl's been paid for. No refunds."

"Oh my gods, no," Shevon whispered.

Dammit, this was _done_. He was through playing games.

Lee stood again, ignoring the way safeties clicked off all around him. He walked slowly, steadily, toward the man who'd threatened him with the pistol, until the muzzle of the gun was pressed directly into his chest. A kind of reckless energy was filling him, an energy he hadn't felt since leaving his office for the bunkroom a few days before. This, as much as anything he'd said to Kara, was about family. _Their_ family. Protecting it, ensuring its continuation. And if he had to die for that to happen, if he had to be killed to prove a point …

So be it.

Phelan was saying something, a single word, and Shevon was crying, telling him to stop … but his ears were buzzing, adrenaline coursing through him, instinct taking over.

The gun pressed deeper. If it fired, it would certainly take out his heart, and probably a number of his internal organs as well.

"Come on, do it," Lee hissed. "Do it."

"I made you a fair offer," Phelan snapped.

Lee barely turned. "So did I. Yeah, you're probably right about everything. You, me, Fisk. Nobody can stop it, and maybe nobody should. But it needs limits. There's lines you can't cross. And you crossed them."

In one swift motion he had the gun, twisting the other man's hand, probably breaking his wrist, but the pistol was his. He swiveled, putting Phelan in the exact same position, the end of the gun aimed at the man's heart.

"You're not gonna shoot," Phelan taunted. "You're not like me."

 _Kara's face, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth moving against his palm —_

The hiss of breath as she climaxed, the hiss that he knew was his name —

The baby's foot, outlined in her abdomen, the way he'd touched it —

Lee moved his finger to the trigger.

 _Her body, cleaved to his —_

"You're not gonna shoot."

 _He couldn't lose this._

"You're not gonna —"

 _Couldn't. Couldn't._

The trigger pulled, firmly and decisively.

He was not surprised by the kickback of the gun. Nor by the way Phelan's body jerked as the bullet pierced his chest, a puppet whose strings had been cut. The satisfaction was grim, but it was there, as the mercenary crumpled.

Somehow, Lee found his voice.

"It's done," he told the assemblage, finding each face in turn, making sure he had their attention. "Fleet relies on the black market. Much as we'd like, we can't wish that away. So, you're still in business. For now. But if there are any more killings, if you hold back essential medicines, if you ever _touch_ a child, or my baby, or Kara Thrace —" His voice shook now, and he swallowed.

But they were nodding, the thugs who no longer possessed a master, and they seemed agreeable.

Someone sniffled behind him, and he remembered Shevon.

Lee tossed the pistol onto a nearby table — he still had his sidearm, after all — and hurried over to her, embraced her. She _felt_ wrong (soft, too fragile in his arms), but it seemed like the thing to do.

She offered a wavery smile. "Thank you, I — I don't even know if that's enough, but …"

"It's all right," he assured her, stepping back slightly. "I don't want anyone else to have to go through what you did, to make the choices you had to make."

Shevon ducked her head. "Look, I … I didn't want to tell them about you and Kara. I swear to you I didn't. I know how much she means to you."

Lee supposed he could have been angry — in fact, he thought, he probably _should_ have been — but she looked so vulnerable, so guilty, that he couldn't help but sympathize. If they'd threatened Paya's life, then she would have had reason to talk, and he didn't think he would have acted any differently in a similar situation. Really, he hadn't.

"Please, don't worry about it," Lee told her quietly. "The important thing is everybody's safe now. That's all I wanted."

"Thank you," Shevon said again, fervently.

"You're welcome." He looked her directly in the eye. "You take care of yourself, okay? Take care of Paya. You know where to find Kara and I if you ever need help with anything."

She smiled, held out her hand for him to shake. "We appreciate it, Captain. And listen …" Shevon lowered her voice, trying to prevent the rest of the assemblage from hearing her next words. "You take care of Kara, and let her take care of you. Because you are so, so lucky to have her."

"I know," Lee said softly. "I know."

***

Hours later, he stood in front of President Roslin's desk on _Colonial One_ , flanked by his father and Colonel Tigh, explaining the situation and his resolution to the issue of the black market. Lee left out the parts about Phelan threatening Kara, and his own reaction to that — somehow, it seemed too personal to share — but he told them everything else, mentioning Shevon and the crib and the information he'd gleaned from Tom Zarek, and even an allusion to the children trapped in the rooms along the hallway and Phelan's dark purpose in keeping them there.

"Commander Fisk's murder has been resolved, and the crew of the _Pegasus_ appears to have accepted _Galactica_ 's conclusions," Lee wound down, having spoken for nearly a quarter of an hour while the others listened. "That's all, Madame President."

"Not quite." Roslin shook her head. "What about the ship, _Prometheus_? I understand it's the hub of the fleet's black market."

"We will keep an eye on them," said Lee, nodding to indicate his respect for the question. It was a fair one.

"'Keep an eye on them'?" the president repeated. "That's not exactly the solution I had in mind. Whether or not we allow a criminal enterprise to thrive in this fleet is not a matter of choice, Captain." She turned to the elder Adama. "Admiral?"

The latter drew himself up to his full height. "I've given Lee complete authority on this issue. The decision is his."

Lee, who had fully expected his father to have a last-minute change of heart and contradict him, had to work to contain his surprise. In the weeks and months after the attacks, the then-Commander and the President had frequently been at odds with regards to Lee's dual role as presidential advisor and CAG, but lately it seemed like they'd been agreeing much more often than disagreeing, and he'd thought it might happen in this instance as well. But apparently not.

He felt a sudden rush of affection towards his father.

Lee snapped himself out of his thoughts, realizing that everyone was once again looking at him, expecting him to speak. Quickly he cobbled together a follow-up. "I support your trade policies wholeheartedly, Madame President. But we are never going to have a perfect system. There will always be some kind of black market. At least this way, I know names, I know faces, I know where they are, and we will monitor the situation."

After a moment's thought, the president nodded. "Thank you, gentlemen, I'm busy."

As they pivoted to leave Roslin's office, Lee thought he saw his father glance over at him, and offer him the tiniest hint of a smile.

He would have to remember to thank him later.

***

The first thing Lee did upon returning to _Galactica_ was to look for Kara, but she wasn't to be found in the bunkroom, or the mess hall, or the head, or any one of about a dozen places he thought to search. It was rather strange given the fact that she hadn't been feeling well, but he reasoned that perhaps the illness she'd mentioned earlier really _had_ been just a stomach virus, or something similar, and that she was now better. She'd told him that sometimes when she couldn't sleep she would just end up walking the corridors of _Galactica_ , so maybe she was doing that now. In which case it would be rather pointless to try and find her.

Kara would come back when she was ready.

Lee knew that months ago, he wouldn't have reached this conclusion. Months ago he would have fought tooth and nail to figure out where she was, to get her back. He might even have berated her for running off. But now, somehow, he knew deep in his gut that something had changed between them. He wouldn't have called it _trust_ — not yet, anyway. But it was there, and it was real. He didn't feel an all-consuming need to know where she was, who she was with, what she was doing. Besides, it wouldn't do in any case to press her on issues like that. He'd tried after Colonial Day, and it had summarily blown up in his face. In fact, if not for the baby, Lee was not entirely sure she would have come back to him.

He was about to return to the mess hall to get something to eat when Gaeta's voice blared over general quarters, asking that he report to the Admiral immediately. Lee hesitated for a moment — Kara was still nowhere to be found — but then turned on his heel and hurried down the corridor as requested.

The Admiral seemed to be in a good mood, inviting his son in and pouring him a drink. After the usual exchange of greetings, Lee took a bracing sip of his whiskey, and screwed up his courage.

"Look, I — I want to thank you for what you did in there, backing me up with the president," he began awkwardly. "She didn't seem very happy today."

"It was the right thing to do." His father didn't look at him, instead choosing to study the swirling liquid in his own glass. "And I'm glad you figured that out. I wasn't sure you would."

Lee bit down hard on his tongue, resisting the urge to answer self-righteousness in kind. "I've figured out a lot of things over the past few days."

"I can tell." Now the elder made eye contact. "You're doing the right thing by Kara, too. I'm … I'm proud of you, son."

It looked as though it had pained his father to say those words, but Lee appreciated them, deeply, in a way he couldn't quite articulate.

So he simply took another mouthful of his drink. "Thanks, Dad."

The phone beside Adama's desk buzzed, and the latter moved immediately to answer it. Lee stifled another wave of irritation. Seemed like the job always came first, in the end. Nowadays he understood why it had to, but it invariably took him back to the times when it wasn't that way, when his father pursued a career as a way of running away from his responsibilities. Lee knew that he himself might have come close to doing the same thing, but the point was that he hadn't. He _hadn't_. He'd come to his senses in time.

"Lee?" Adama was saying.

Once more the younger man snapped himself back to the present. "Yeah?"

The Admiral held out the phone. "It's for you."

 _Me?_ Lee blinked and blinked again, but took the receiver. "Apollo here."

"Hey, Apollo, it's Helo," came the voice of Karl Agathon. "Listen, you might want to get yourself down to sickbay. By the looks of things you're gonna be a father real soon."

Lee fumbled the receiver and almost dropped his glass. "Helo — _what?_ Are — are you sure? It's not — like last time?"

Somehow the lieutenant understood him. "Cottle just confirmed it. She started having contractions about an hour ago, and I'd just gotten her here when her water broke."

Someone yelled something incoherent in the background.

There was a scuffling on the other end of the line, and Karl spoke again. "Yeah, Starbuck just told me to tell you to get your ass down here RFN or she will, and I quote, 'rip your frakking dick off.'"

Lee coughed. "Uh — right. Tell her — tell her I'll be there."

The sound of Helo's laughter rang in his ears as he hung up.

Adama was watching him with interest now, apparently distinctly curious. Lee shot to his feet and nearly lost his grip on the glass again, fumbling to recover it as several drops of whiskey landed on the rug.

"I — I have to go," the younger man blurted. "Karl Agathon just called from sickbay and Kara's in labour, and Cottle says it's real this time because her water broke and —"

"Lee," Adama interrupted. "Go. Just go."

"Right." Lee banged the glass down on his father's desk, slopping most of the remaining liquid over the side, and saluted before scrambling for the hatch.

"And Lee?"

He turned.

Adama wore a wide smile. "Good luck, son. Tell Kara I love her. And keep me informed."


	27. Chapter 27

Sharp, bright, white-hot pain.

She'd had to deal with a hell of a lot of pain in her life. Her mother, hitting her, slapping her, smacking her with a belt, shutting her fingers in the doorjamb of a closet. The pain of injuring her knee in that Pyramid game, the one that was so important, the one with the pro scouts in the stands watching. Reinjuring that very same knee on the desert moon, and having to walk miles across unforgiving terrain to find some way out, any way out. Rehabilitating the knee, dealing with the discomfort that arose when Cottle took her off the strong pain medication she'd been given right after the crash. The stinging heat of her gunshot wound on Caprica, the way it had weakened her, brought her crashing to her knees.

When Kara contemplated labour — which wasn't very often — she sometimes secretly feared that she wouldn't recognize it because her tolerance for pain was so high. That tolerance had been learned, gained over many years as the dubious reward for the suffering forced on her. She'd figured out how to shut pain away, seal it off in her mind, and carry on somehow until the pain stopped. This was one of the reasons why she'd been in such a rush to get to sickbay the first time she felt cramps, only to be informed (to her embarrassment) that her "labour" was just a simple case of indigestion.

Now, though, she couldn't imagine how the _hell_ she would have missed this.

It was all-consuming, all-encompassing, forcing her to pay attention to it. Every muscle in her body was contracting, not just those directly connected with her womb. When a wave hit she had to clench herself, brace herself, almost as though it was a danger against which she needed to guard. Her back seized, and lightning shot down her legs.

"You're not dilating, Captain," Ishay said in a voice so soothing and calm that Kara wanted to throw something at her. She would have if there'd been any suitable object close enough. "You're fighting your body, and that's not good. You need to relax and let your instinct take over."

" _Frak you!_ " Kara snapped, feeling the waves building again, her spine throbbing in sympathy. This was stupid, this was _crazy_ , and where in the _hell_ was Lee, anyway? Here she was in a too-narrow bed dressed in one of those dumb gowns, sweating like a Picon sea pig with her legs spread to anyone who cared to look, and he didn't even have the guts to —

"Hey. Kara." Helo was back.

" _What?_ "

"There's someone here to see you."

And suddenly _he_ was there, pale, terrified-looking actually, but _there_ , and right at that moment she wasn't sure if she should kiss Lee or strangle him. She was leaning towards the latter, contemplating several gruesome but satisfying deaths for him, when the medic parted her legs more widely and inserted a gloved finger exactly where it was least welcome. Kara gritted her teeth, nearly biting through her tongue at the additional invasion.

"Three centimeters." Ishay shook her head and turned to Lee, stripping off her rubber gloves. "Captain, maybe you can be of some use here. We need her to calm down a bit and let the labour progress before we can administer any analgesics. Otherwise, at this stage, meds might stop it completely."

Lee looked even more scared. "And — and that would be bad?"

To her credit, the medic didn't roll her eyes at what Kara considered to be an insanely ridiculous question. "I wouldn't be so concerned if her water hadn't already broken, but since it has, the risk of infection increases dramatically if the child isn't born within a certain amount of time."

Another contraction built and surged.

"Hey, where are you going?" Lee blurted out as Ishay made to leave.

 _I'll light him on fire_ , thought Kara savagely. _No, first I'll punch him and knock all his teeth out and then I'll bruise his kidneys so bad he'll piss blood for a week._

"Relax, Dad." Helo's heavy handed landed on the other man's shoulder, and Lee jumped. "She's been in and out the whole time to get Cottle. He'll actually deliver the kid."

 _After that, I'll lower him dick-first into a vat of fuel and drop a match in after him and I'll laugh while he screams and when he gets out I'll string him up by his wrists and —_

But she couldn't remember what came next, couldn't think, couldn't breathe — dammit — this one was worse — so much worse — she wouldn't last — no godsdamned way — not if it was like this —

"Just talk to her." Through a haze of red and pain Kara saw Helo leading Lee towards her bed. "Talk to her, hold her hand, hug her —"

" _Don't you frakking touch me!_ " Kara bellowed, and Lee jumped again.

"— let her swear at you, let her yell, let her squash your hand," Karl continued, as though she hadn't spoken. "Let her tell you she's going to chop your balls into little pieces while you're still attached to them and douse them in fuel and —"

"All right, all right, I get the picture," Lee interrupted hastily. "Look, uh … you're gonna be sticking around, huh?"

"For another couple hours, until I go on duty," nodded Helo. "But seriously, man, this is your game. If we're going to have kids we all have to suffer through it. I'll pay my dues when Sharon has our baby. Right now, you're up."

The other blinked, swallowed.

 _Bastard looks petrified. He should be, too._

Under any other circumstances she might have laughed, because Lee was even paler now, pale and sweaty and seeming for all the worlds like he was gonna hurl right there. She'd have to remember to make fun of him later. If she lived through this.

He sank into a chair next to the bed, one hand reaching tentatively toward the sheet as though he expected her to frisk him. "Uh — Kara —?"

"You are never getting laid again for the rest of your miserable life, do you hear me?" she hissed.

Kara wished she knew how to spit venom. Venom would be nice.

"Technically this isn't only my —" Lee began, but Helo cut him off even before Kara could.

"Rule number one, Apollo, is that while she's giving birth to your kid, _everything_ is your fault. The pregnancy's your fault, the kid is your fault, her having to push the baby out is your fault, and you're responsible for everything from the Cylons to the fact that there's never any good coffee anymore. Got it?"

She was inexpressibly grateful for Karl's presence.

The pain abated for a moment and Kara slumped back onto the bed, catching her breath, trying simultaneously to tug her gown back down to cover herself. Helo proved he was worth his weight in cubits once again, rising wordlessly and pulling the gown further over her stomach for modesty.

"How you holding up, Starbuck?" he asked, sweeping a sweaty lock of hair out of her eyes.

"How do you _think?_ " she muttered, but with less malice. All this free-floating anger required energy, energy Kara was quickly discovering she didn't have.

"You're doin' great," Karl assured her. "And you know what?"

He was trying to distract her, and she knew it, but she couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her face. "What, frakwit?"

"In a couple months when Sharon goes into labour and gives birth and calls me all sorts of stupid names, you can laugh at me, okay? I won't even say anything. You can laugh as long and hard as you want. You can give her all kinds of ideas on how to kill me and torture me. All right?"

"With Kara's imagination you'll be lucky if you sleep at night after that," Lee put in. "She is one sick frakker."

"Yeah, and you aren't?" Helo snickered. "It's always the quiet ones, Apollo. I'd bet ten cubits you've got some crazy fantasies of your own."

Kara actually laughed a little, amazed at herself. "He does. Trust me."

Karl quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Lee coughed. "Uh, I don't know if you should be talking about —"

"He wanted to give me a bath," Kara interrupted, and though she felt more pain building, it didn't seem quite as important now as embarrassing the hell out of Lee. He deserved it, after all. "That's what started this whole damn thing. I never thought he'd actually do it, but he turned up right after I got back from the moon. Probably 'cause he just wanted to stare at my tits."

"Doesn't the whole squadron?" Lee sputtered, blushing furiously.

"You —" She closed her eyes for a moment, gripped Helo's hand. "Are a special case. I asked you if you wanted to give me a bath but I never thought — _frak_ — I never thought you'd actually do it. That stick was jammed so far up your ass it was at the back of your throat."

"I —"

"Captain Lee Adama, breast man." Helo was tapping his chin, pretending to be lost in thought. "Yeah, I like it. Maybe that should be your new callsign."

Now Kara laughed again, louder, one of her more typical guffaws, even as the contraction reached its crescendo and she had to simultaneously wince. "Gods, can you — can you imagine T-Tigh listening to that over — over comms?"

Karl, catching the spirit, cupped one hand over his mouth like a megaphone. "Breast Man, Helo, you're coming in hot, call the ball!"

"That sounds like the voiceover to a really bad porn vid," Kara said, and now Helo burst out laughing too. Lee slumped forward, his head in his hands.

"Aww, is somebody embarrassed by his sex life?" chuckled Helo.

"No, I just fail to see why it's figuring into this conversation," Lee muttered. "Or _any_ conversation, for that matter."

"Funny, you didn't seem to mind so much the other day," Kara told him, and she would have gone on had Cottle not picked that moment to come around the curtain.

The doc was gruff as hell at the best of times, and he did not disappoint now. "Captain, Ishay tells me you're not in a very good mood at the moment."

She wanted to snap at him that he wouldn't be either were he in her position, but wisely kept silent as he went on.

"I'm sure she's already told you this, but I'll say it again: you're only prolonging the pain for yourself if you keep fighting it. I'm willing to numb you, but I can't do that until you're at least five centimeters dilated." Cottle snapped on a pair of gloves and Kara winced involuntarily. "You need to stop trying to control your body. It won't listen to you anyway. I'll tell you what I tell every mother who comes through here, and that's that you need to focus on the end, focus on why you're doing this in the first place."

 _The baby._ Of course, the baby. That was almost as scary as this entire process, though she wouldn't have admitted it to anyone but herself. In some ways she felt like she knew the child intimately, but reality was beginning to press in, a reality saying that once the baby was born, it would cease to be merely an abstract concept, something to be expected in the distant future. She would somehow, some way, have to be a mother. It was so much easier to push aside the doubts and fears when the child was under her control, inside her. Kara had made her decision, and she could accept that. Starbuck didn't back down. _Kara_ didn't back down. But it didn't mean she couldn't be afraid. She wasn't afraid of the baby; not really. She was afraid of herself.

The doctor finished his examination, pronouncing her four centimeters along now. Kara clung to that number, willed it with all of her heart and mind and soul to advance, to widen, to multiply. Because Cottle had been right about one thing — this wouldn't go on forever, it _couldn't_ , and she'd rather it be as short as possible. If that meant suppressing her natural urges to go against the pain, to deny its existence, then she would have to do that.

Somehow.

She squeezed her lids shut as the pain arced upwards again, waited to feel it down her backbone and in her legs, and it was there, but less — less because there was a sudden pressure on her hand, someone holding it, someone rubbing it between two of theirs, and she expected to see Karl when she opened her eyes again, but no: it was Lee.

No longer red-faced and embarrassed, he seemed to radiate a kind of quiet determination now, his blue eyes fixed on her face. Gods, those eyes. She could get lost in them. She was lost in them, even now, even with her attention focused elsewhere. Her memory flashed back to all the other moments she'd seen those eyes and been mesmerized by them. The brig, the first time they'd seen each other since after Zak's funeral … after the attacks, how he'd pulled her out from under her Viper, grinned as her mouth dropped open at the incredible, improbable fact that he was _alive_ … in sickbay, when her knee was screwed up and she was wondering if she'd ever fly again, and he was there, laughing and bantering with her and jollying her out of her mood … all the times after, whatever thing had been between them, whatever thing continued now, having grown so much deeper …

And right at this moment, the space between them having narrowed until Kara felt only her skin where they were connected, his hands on hers, calluses on his fingers from gripping the stick too hard during combat landings. She could have said that she knew every inch of his body by now, could have said that truthfully, but she also understood that she'd never get tired of it, of exploring it, of mapping it, of feeling it against her own.

Lee brought her hand to his mouth, kissed each of her fingers in turn.

A half hour later, she was ready, and when the needle slid into her back, Kara did not speak, did not cry out. She looked into Lee's eyes, and waited.

***

 _Her mind felt muddy, uncoordinated, disconnected. There was something important she was supposed to be doing, something she had to focus on, but for the life of her, Kara couldn't remember what it was._

She was on Caprica.

Some part of her mind knew that, was cataloguing all the familiar sights and sounds and smells of a morning in Delphi. The cars outside, honking right near her window, drivers taking their frustrations out on unfortunate strangers. Coffee brewing somewhere nearby, Aerilon roast, strong, black, just the way she liked it. The radio on, tuned to that irritating rock station he loved. She preferred classical in the morning, though she would never have told him. Kara had a reputation to uphold, after all.

"Hey, babe, you gonna spend the whole morning in bed?"

She smiled before she opened her eyes, swatting out where she knew he'd be. "You wish."

He sprawled next to her, his hand on her cheek. "When I've got my wings, you and I will celebrate. We'll get fifteen bottles of ambrosia and a dozen bags of chips and spend the whole day in bed and I'll go down on you once an hour because you are the amazing instructor who got me through. All right?"

Kara barked a laugh, finally rolling over and opening her eyes. "When you get your wings, you'll never come down, nugget. Real flying's not like sim work."

"Then we'll go up together." Zak grinned and fingered the engagement ring on her thumb. "Think they'll marry us in the air?"

"Yeah, right."

He rolled on top of her then, kissed her soundly, their tongues mingling, and it felt like coming home, as essential as breathing. Zak was here and she was warm under him and all of the things she'd heard since childhood, heard from her mother, finally seemed like lies. She wasn't a cancer. She didn't need to be burned out, irradiated. She could make someone else's life happy, and she could be happy in return. Kara had tried so hard not to let him in, had used every fraternization regulation she knew and a few made up on the spur of the moment to discourage him. But Zakary Adama was nothing if not persistent. He'd kept coming — not obnoxiously enough to bother her or make her think he was a creep, but persistently enough to make her reconsider her original stance.

The fact that he wasn't a top pilot, and so required a lot of extra help and tutoring, encouraged their proximity as well. She'd feebly quoted the frat regs, at which Zak had laughed. "You sound like my big brother," he'd snickered, and then he gave her that heart-stopping smile, the smile against which she was powerless.

Now Kara grasped the sides of his face, pinning him with a grin of her own. "So when do I get to meet this mythical big brother of yours, hotshot? I've only heard a million things about him …"

"Anytime you want." Zak palmed her breast, massaging the nipple erect. "How 'bout we have him over for dinner sometime? Only you'll have to make the food, 'cause Lee won't come within fifty clicks of here if he thinks I'm cooking supper." He laughed.

"Lee, huh?" The name sounded interesting on her tongue. "Why don't we just get the whole family dinner thing over in one shot? Your parents still talk, right?"

For the first time, his smile dimmed a little. "Sort of. Lee and my old man, they don't really get along."

"Really?" Then again, the legendary Husker was supposed to be a tough guy to peg. Maybe she shouldn't be so surprised. "And what, you're afraid I'll freak out and run away after they come to blows at the supper table?"

"Nah," Zak said, sounding sheepish. "I just want you to meet Lee first, that's all. He's great, you'd like him. I mean, he's got a stick the size of the Arrow of Apollo shoved up his ass sometimes, which is ironic because his callsign is Apollo, but —"

"Wait, his callsign _is Apollo?" Kara snorted with laughter. "Lords, he must think he's pretty hot stuff." She leered, a feral glint in her eye. "Now I can't wait."_

Zak laughed with her. "Just don't forget whose ring is on your finger. Which guy you're gonna spend the rest of your life with."

She pulled him down to her, kissing him fiercely, grinding her hips up into his. He moaned softly, his palm tracing the shell of her ear. "I won't," Kara whispered, and with infinitesimal space between them and his heat all around her, it seemed an easy promise to make. "Count on it."

***

"Yeah, she's sleeping right now … Cottle was able to numb her about three hours or so ago, so she had a good rest. She's still having contractions, but she can't feel them, so it's a little easier. … No, I'm not sure. I don't know, I think everyone's different, right? I mean, you said Mom was a couple days with me …"

Kara opened her eyes slowly, the room coming back into focus, sense memories bouncing and ricocheting down her nerve endings. It was strange, only being able to feel half your body. Like you just ended at your waist and there was nothing more of you, while at the same time you could easily see your legs under the blanket. She couldn't move them. Right down to her toes, the messages her brain issued — wiggle, stretch, twitch — were being ignored, refused, sent back the way they'd come.

Of course, that was the whole point. After the numbing had taken effect, she'd been surprised to discover that while the contractions continued, they were now just a gentle tugging sensation in the vague area of her abdomen. Something to notice, perhaps even something to keep track of and remark on, but a fact to be all but ignored otherwise. It was such a change from how her labour had proceeded before. She hadn't exactly planned on falling asleep, but she supposed her body needed the rest.

And that had been one frakked-up dream.

It was less a dream than a subconscious re-telling of events that had actually taken place, three years ago. Kara could still smell the coffee, hear the cars honking and the screeching of some singer on the radio. She could feel — if she closed her eyes again, conjured his face — she could feel him astride her, hear his voice whispering for her.

Shit.

Across the room, Zak's older brother was finishing a telephone conversation, nodding at the person on the other end of the line, hanging up the receiver. Lee looked tired and drawn, dark circles under his eyes and faint stubble on his cheeks. Gods, it was hard to believe there'd been a time when she hadn't known him, when he was only a faint idea, someone Zak talked about and idolized and insisted she get along with. Kara's first impression on hearing Lee's callsign was of a narcissist, someone obsessed with his own prowess and abilities, cocky to the point of blind arrogance. All pilots were that way to a certain extent — Lords knew she herself was — but the name Apollo seemed to suggest just that little bit extra.

She'd been fully prepared to dislike him, to rip him apart and take him down a notch. What Kara hadn't counted on was that they would click, almost instantly, two puzzle pieces fitting easily into each other as though that was what they'd been born for. Even Zak hadn't grasped the true extent of the camaraderie between Apollo and Starbuck. He was just thrilled that his fiancée and his big brother were getting along so well.

What in the hell would he think now?

She brushed a hand through her hair as Lee returned to her bedside, and a smile lit his eyes as well as his face.

"Hey." He took her hand again. "How are you holding up?"

"That," Kara informed him witheringly, "is the kind of question you ask your ninety-year-old grandmother when you go visit her at the nursing home every week. For frak's sake, Lee."

"Uh — right." His features twisted in slight confusion, and the smile vanished, which was what she needed. "Well, what would you like me to ask?"

She shrugged. "I don't care. The answer's the same anyway, I'm still here, I'm still damn tired of being here and I'm still waiting for your kid to come, because he seems to be taking his sweet time getting born. Happy?"

Lee laughed. "And you're still you."

Kara rolled her eyes. "That too."

"You're also wrong about one thing," he added, and he was smiling now in a very superior way. "'He' is a _she_. I'm sure of it."

"Keep dreaming, Apollo."

"Half the squadron's probably betting on it, you know," Lee mused. "Helo told me before he left for duty that Gaeta was thinking of starting a baby name pool."

"Nosy bastards," Kara muttered. "Too much time on their hands."

"We should start thinking about it, though," he pointed out. "What we're going to name the kid, I mean. We don't exactly have a lot of time left to make a decision."

She sighed, awkwardly repositioning herself under the blankets. "You think for both of us, Lee, since I'm doing the rest of the work. Girl names _and_ boy names, by the way. Something that's easy to pronounce and easy to spell. And for gods' sake, _not_ Socrata or Dreilide. My parents," she explained at the quizzical look he gave her.

"Well, I know one thing, we're not naming the baby after my parents, either," Lee said firmly. "Maybe Joseph. My grandfather's name, and my middle name."

"Ew, _no_." Kara shuddered. Then she brightened. "How about Leland Joseph Adama Jr.?"

" _Kara._ "

"What? It's a good name. A hilarious name, actually!"

"I don't _like_ the name Leland," he gritted out from between clenched teeth. "Which should be perfectly obvious to you, by the way."

"Sure, _Leland_ ," Kara snickered.

"Kara, stop."

"Make me."

He stuck his tongue out at her, and she quickly responded in kind.

"Gods, look at us," Lee sighed, shaking his head. "What kind of kid are we going to raise when we can't even make it out of the second grade ourselves?"

Kara shrugged. "Look, I'll make you a deal, Apollo. If you win and the kid's a girl, you get to name her whatever you want and I won't complain. If the kid is a boy, I get to name him whatever _I_ want and _you_ won't complain."

"You weren't actually going to call him Leland, were you?" The look he shot her was pleading now.

"Nah, I was just teasing. It's far too much fun to make fun of _you_ with that name. No, I want to call him William, actually."

Lee was shaking his head almost as soon as she'd finished speaking. "Kara, no, come on, there'd be no living with my father after that. I'm _not_ going to feed his ego by not only having a son but also naming that kid after him!"

"Well, you might luck out," Kara said. "The kid might be a girl after all."

"I'm not going to agree to this!" he warned. "This is insane! My father has been arrogant, self-serving, combative, argumentative, manipulative, bull-headed, close-minded, cowardly —"

"Your point, Lee?" She yawned theatrically.

"— and just generally not the kind of person I'd want to name somebody after, especially not my son. He's a horrible role model, he knows nothing about parenting, he freaks out at the first sign that someone might be asking him to make a commitment of any kind, he never finishes what he starts —"

"Yeah, well, you know what?" Kara cut in smoothly, and Lee reluctantly fell silent. "That's what _you_ think, but have you ever stopped to consider that other people might see him differently? Lee, if it weren't for your father I don't know where I would be now. He came to me after Zak's funeral and he offered me the _Galactica_ , and he's let me be who I am and fight for something that I believe in, when he probably should have just walked away and washed his hands of me. He wasn't under any obligation, but he did. And I feel like I owe him something beyond gratitude. So many people lost their families and every single person they'd ever known when the Cylons attacked. You still have your dad, and you should be damned thankful. It's more than I can say for myself." She glared, and felt her midsection tighten a little more strongly now.

Lee took several deep breaths before answering. "Look, I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry I don't see him the way you do. But the way he treated Zak and I —"

"Is something you'll have to get over," she snapped. "My kid is going to know his grandfather, godsdammit. You're a big boy. Suck it up."

He sighed again, a long, tired sound. "This is ridiculous."

"Yeah, I'm glad you've finally figured that out!"

They were silent for several moments, Kara staring across the maternity ward, evaluating the tightness inside her, trying to figure out if it meant anything. She was so sick of going over the same territory with him, over and over and over, and he never learned, never realized how far his father had actually gone to try and mend fences. She couldn't completely tell him, of course, because that would mean violating confidences. But she wished he'd take the hints she was trying to offer, take them and be glad for them instead of tossing up the same old walls every single time.

"It's a deal," Lee said quietly.

Kara blinked. "Huh?"

"If the baby's a boy, you can name him. But if she's a girl, I choose the name, and you don't complain about what I've picked, and we stop arguing about this. Okay?"

"Sounds good to me." She smiled, breathed in, clenched her teeth as an anchor unspooled inside her. "It's a damn good thing you came to your senses now, Apollo."

He saw the change in her expression instantly, and leaned forward to clasp an arm around her shoulder. "Hey. Kara, are you —"

"Get Cottle." Kara breathed again, her tone brooking no argument. "And get ready to meet this kid."


	28. Chapter 28

"And … push!"

Godsdammit, if she _ever_ heard that word again it would be too soon —

"As hard as you can, as long as you can, right through the contraction, Captain, keep pushing," Ishay encouraged, sounding more like a pyramid cheerleader than a medic. Kara wanted to stab her.

Or she would have, had she not been preoccupied with a much more pressing issue: the fact that her body was apparently trying to rip itself in half from the inside out. All the pain from earlier was back, the epidural having been turned down so that, in Ishay's words, Kara could be "an active participant" in the delivery. Cottle had been blunter, growling that he wasn't doing this for her and that the job to get the kid out was hers. She had never hated him more than in that moment.

Right now, she hated pretty much _everything_. She hated the pain, she hated her back, she hated Cottle and Ishay and everyone else who wouldn't just knock her the hell out for this, she hated the sweaty hair hanging in her eyes, she hated the way the stupid yellow gown clung to her (damn, it was riding up _again_ ), she hated sex for feeling so amazing, and she hated Lee for being so godsdamned _good_ at it. What the hell did he have to suffer from this, anyway? He got to ride her for two minutes and satisfy himself and walk away, and she was the one stuck with _this_ , the pain, the impossible frakking task of bringing their child into the world. She was the one to sacrifice her body to this marathon, nine months of pregnancy and Lords knew how many hours of the agony.

Looking at his face, however, Kara suddenly noticed that she _wasn't_ the only one suffering. Lee was fine physically, of course, but she saw her pain reflected in his gaze, her screaming and yelling in the circles under his eyes, each burst of discomfort like a knife in his own flesh. Watching her, knowing he was at least partially responsible for this, was killing him.

Good.

The contraction broke, finally, and she leaned back into Lee's arms. Somewhere in all of this, in the past two excruciating hours, he'd wound up behind her, supporting her as she half-sat and half-lay with her legs spread and her stomach ballooning out in front of her. Despite his initial nervousness and inexperience, Lee had sucked it up, to his credit, and had fully taken over once Helo left for duty. Part of her wished Karl could still be here, but she knew she was already pulling Lee away from his shift, and she couldn't ask the Old Man to give her Helo too.

"Two hours, _godsdammit_ ," Kara panted, gasping for breath. "You _owe_ me, motherfrakker!"

"I know." Lee stroked her hair, and much as she didn't want to admit it, that felt _amazing_. "I'm sure she'll be here soon, Kara, just hold on."

" _He_ ," she snapped, and glared up at him. "And you'd better get used to _him_ being your only child because I am _never_ doing this again!"

"Right now, I can live with that," he assured her, and she could tell by his tone that he meant it. "It's gonna be okay, I promise. We'll get through this."

"Speak for yourself," Kara snarled. Another contraction was building.

(But he'd said it, he'd said it would be okay, so maybe it was true, maybe, somehow, things would work out.)

Lee boosted her vertical, his hands underneath her arms, his back against hers, strength keeping her up and preventing her from falling. She curled her arms around her abdomen as the pain ripped through her, at its strongest yet, and this time pushing was almost a relief.

"We're almost there, Captain, almost there," Ishay said, and Kara wanted so desperately to believe her. "As hard as you can, as long as you can, right through, right through — that's it, there you are. Doc Cottle?"

There must be a reason why he was needed now, but Kara didn't even stop to contemplate it; she'd barely taken a breath when the next contraction was upon her and the next and the next, and they were doubling and tripling up now, she was bearing down so hard that tears were leaking out of the corners of her eyes, or maybe sweat, but she didn't have time to care which.

Over her shoulder Lee stood up, still supporting her, but he was now glancing downwards, down toward where both Cottle and Ishay were working. More tears trickled out of her eyes, and there was more than enough of Starbuck left in Kara to hate herself for that. She gritted her teeth and desperately sucked oxygen into protesting lungs.

This _had_ to be the last of it. It had to happen soon.

 _Please, Lords, let it happen soon._

She was mid-shove — moaning — this kid needed to come _now_ — something was burning, where nothing should ever burn — Lee jerked forward like an electric current had gone through him, suddenly captivated — her eyes shut, her face scrunched —

"Two pushes, Thrace," Cottle cut into her agony, his tone surprisingly gentle. "We've almost got the head. Two more."

 _Two more. Two more._

It was a mantra.

 _Two more. Two more._

Kara started on the first, and it was an impossible mountain to climb but somehow she was doing it. There was pressure on her hand now, fingers clasping hers, encouraging her to grab, so she did. Firm, fast, and judging by the surprised huff of breath beside her, _hard_ , but she didn't care. She wasn't — frakking — _done_ yet.

"I can see the head, Captain," Ishay said, and Kara wanted to kiss her. "One more, one more and we'll have her."

 _Her? Hmph._

A long, incoherent grunt, the bizarre sensation that _something_ was leaving her body where it shouldn't, and Cottle and Ishay were suddenly very busy, holding a small, wiggling red thing between them as a piercing cry rent the air. Lee sucked in a long breath, his grip on her hand doubling in strength. Part of her wished she could see his face.

"Clamp?"

"Got it. You want to cut the cord, Dad?" Ishay asked.

Convulsive swallowing beside her, and he must have shaken his head because the activity started up again. And why wasn't anybody saying anything? Kara's breath came hard, frightened, and the baby was crying, but — but —

"William," Lee whispered. His voice was … reverential.

"Kids, you have a son," Cottle confirmed, a tiny bundle in his arms as he came towards the bed. "He's healthy and strong, just like his mother. Congratulations."

So, she'd called it.

The warmth of that knowledge flooded Kara abruptly and she found a wide smile spreading across her face, a smile that began with the sole intent of showing Lee up, a smile that was for _victory_. It changed the closer Cottle came to her, finally twisting into a nervous grimace as he offered her the blankets.

Her son.

Gods, what if she dropped him? Broke him? Hurt him?

The doc seemed to read her thoughts. "It's okay, Captain. He's tougher than he looks. The human race wouldn't have survived nearly as long as it has if he wasn't."

Kara supposed that was true. Her heart still pounded and her mouth parched dry, but she reached out, and her grasp was steady as she accepted the bundle. A tiny hand waved from the blanket, warm and ruddy with her blood, and she saw five fingers, each tipped with a barely-visible fingernail. He was surprisingly solid in her arms, not the fragile featherweight she had expected, and he looked wrinkled and red and … well, kind of weird, truthfully. Not like the rugrats in old advertisements before the Colonies fell.

But the kid was hers. He was hers, he was here, and he was real. For months on end she'd carried him, felt him boot her in the ribs and kick her in the kidneys, not really bothering to wonder what he'd be like once he was born. Perhaps it wasn't so much that she hadn't bothered, as she was too busy, too preoccupied, too afraid. She'd first thought of the baby only in terms of a decision she would have to make, and by the time said decision had been taken, the _Pegasus_ showed up and brought with it a whole bunch of other problems. Then there was the Resurrection Ship mission to deal with, and everything connected with that. Kara had also used those events to push the child from her mind as much as she could — she wasn't too chicken to admit that.

The baby — William, she thought, trying the name out in her mind — drew her attention back with a soft sound, and Kara sucked in a breath as she realized he was looking at her, his eyes open. _She knew those eyes._ All rugrats were supposed to have blue eyes at birth, but there was no mistaking the colour of these irises, mirrored as they were in the face of the man sitting next to her. True, some babies' eyes changed as they grew older, but she somehow doubted this kid's would.

"My gods," Lee murmured softly. Kara barely kept herself from startling, almost having forgotten he was there.

She looked over to see him gazing unabashedly at the baby, an expression of utter wonder on his features. He reached out to touch small fingers, a miniscule palm. The hand twitched, grasping tightly.

"Did we really make this?" His voice was hushed.

" _I_ did," Kara corrected, and despite her exhaustion, she still shot him a smirk. "Credit where credit's due, Apollo."

"Very funny." Lee rolled his eyes. "I had a hand in it."

In her arms, the kid twitched, turning his head to the side and slapping a palm to her breast, his mouth open. "Okay, that part's _definitely_ you," she conceded, smiling wider. "You been giving him lessons?"

"He's named Adama, Kara," Lee reminded her. "Loving you is hard-wired into our DNA."

"Or at least loving my tits is," she retorted. "And speaking of names, I believe you've come out on the losing end of our little deal, flyboy."

He chuckled, smiling wanly. "That's why I never bet against you in triad, Kara. Too damn easy to lose."

"Hey, watch your language."

"You first," Lee shot back.

Kara snorted a laugh. He was probably right about that; this kid would be swearing like a frakkin' Marine before he was two. And honestly, if a propensity for bad language was the worst quality they passed on to their son, she would consider them to have succeeded at this parenting thing.

"So, you wanna know what his name is?" she asked.

Lee rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "All right, go ahead and gloat."

"William Zakary Adama," Kara said, her recent dream lurking at the edges of her consciousness. "Will for short."

***

He was drawn, worn-out, exhausted, spent. All he wanted to do was find the nearest bed, collapse into it and sleep for maybe a hundred years.

But exhaustion, Lee could handle. He certainly wasn't unfamiliar with the feeling, having become acquainted right after the Cylon attacks and Kara's crash on the desert moon and gods only knew how many other catastrophes. Along the way he'd learned how to deal with being dead on his feet, and it was serving him now.

Kara was asleep; she'd gone out like a light almost as soon as she finished lording it over him about the baby's name. He knew he wouldn't live this one down for a long, long time. He didn't regret taking the side he had — he'd been absolutely, completely and utterly convinced that the child was a girl — but he supposed he should have remembered the pattern his own family tended to follow. As far back as his grandfather Joseph, the Adama family had been comprised of at least one boy, often two. Gramps had had a younger brother called Sam, there was his father, and then of course there'd been Lee and Zak. Dad had mentioned an older sister of his once, but he didn't talk about her much. Her name had apparently been Tamara, and she had been killed when the elder Adama was about ten. Lee had never learned how.

Now, Lee himself had a son. Fear still nibbled away at the corners of his mind, but he hoped to hell Kara wouldn't let him screw this up. She certainly hadn't hesitated to call him on all the crap before the baby's birth, so he suspected she wouldn't hold her tongue if he did something wrong now.

And he _had_ all but raised Zak. He needed to remember that.

Despite the fact that Lee initially hadn't agreed to naming their child after his father, he could see Kara's point, albeit grudgingly. She had a great relationship with the Admiral, and matters would have been very difficult for her if Adama hadn't taken her under his wing, offered her _Galactica_ and allowed her to excel in her new position. Lee knew he needed to try harder not to let the past blind him to this new future opening up. He didn't want to be one of those parents who constantly argued with the elder generation over the raising of the younger. But it was just so damned hard sometimes.

For some inexplicable reason, Kara's decree that they would call the baby Will helped. The diminutive was necessary to distinguish the younger William from the older, even though his father most often used _Bill_ for his given name. Lee couldn't remember ever hearing anybody call the Admiral Will. And he kind of liked the way it sounded. He was also pleased that Kara had chosen to honour Zak as well, which was something he probably would have insisted on anyway. It _was_ easier to do that with a boy than with a girl.

Lee shifted in his chair, maneuvering Will in his arms as he did so. There was a bassinet nearby, and he'd probably make use of it soon, but for now he was content to simply hold his new son, watch him sleep. Will was wrapped in the same white blanket, and he was clean now — Ishay had bathed him about an hour ago and dressed him in a soft green sleeper while Lee watched, the latter not feeling brave enough to attempt any of the hands-on stuff yet. It was enough now to gaze at the baby, to try and catalogue what features he'd inherited from his parents.

He thought he recognized his own nose on Will's face, or a miniature version of it anyway, but the shape of the boy's features was much more like Kara, and he had her lean, strong fingers. The baby had a bit of hair, though it was hard to tell who was favoured in the colour. Cottle said that this hair would probably fall out in a few weeks anyway, to be replaced by whatever the child's natural shade would be.

Will twitched, scrunched up his face in his sleep, then seemed to relax. Lee relaxed as well; he'd been having visions of his son starting to cry, and he wasn't at all sure what he would do when _that_ happened. He knew it would eventually, but he was hoping to put it off as long as possible.

At that moment, he noticed the odor.

It was faint, but undeniably present, spreading like an unexpected warm front. And, of course (dammit, _why_ was his luck always this bad?), coming from the baby.

 _Frak._

Lee contemplated several possible escape routes. He could call Ishay or Cottle, but how incompetent would they think he was, not even able to change a diaper without somebody holding his hand? He could wake up Kara. Lee shuddered involuntarily at _that_ thought. Not only would she not help him, she'd probably also crack a rib laughing. Besides, she did need rest. The birth had been exhausting for her, and he had not been kidding in the slightest when he agreed to her demand that Will be their only child. He didn't think he could watch her go through that much pain again, ever, no matter what the source or how positive the results. His ears were still ringing from her screams.

Okay. Who else was there? His father. But Lee sure as hell wasn't asking _him_ , not for this. The Admiral was on duty right now anyway, likely right near the end of his shift, and while Lee had sent word of the birth to CIC, he'd deliberately withheld the information about whether the baby was a boy or a girl, along with the infant's name. Which was probably a little childish of him, but he wanted Adama to _see_ the child, to be introduced to his new grandchild in person rather than through a telephone line. Maybe it was too much to ask, but Lee was going to use all the weapons at his disposal to try and ensure that a face-to-face meeting happened.

And he would _not_ call his father in the command centre for a dirty diaper.

So that left only one other option.

Awkwardly he rose, making his way around the bed, eyeing the bassinet as though there was a poisonous snake inside. Ishay had left the proper supplies, diapers and wipes, underneath on a neat shelf, and he'd watched her do this before, but watching was quite different from actually doing. Shit, he was going to mess up so badly. At least there wasn't anyone around to see.

Will didn't stir as his father laid him down in the bassinet. Lee began to unwrap the light blanket, feeling like his hands were as big and clumsy as meat cleavers, and just as sharp. He'd heard what Cottle had said about babies being tougher than they looked, but everything about his newborn son screamed _fragile_. Tiny legs, scrunched into the same shape they must have taken in the womb, fingers curled into little fists, feet that looked like they'd snap in half if he touched them. This was crazy. _Crazy._

Lee drew a deep breath, feeling sweat trickle down his back, and unsnapped the little sleeper. Will snorted and kicked out as his legs were manipulated, whimpering softly and tossing his head from side to side. Nervously Lee glanced back to Kara. She hadn't moved, but she soon would if their son kept making those noises.

"Hey," he whispered, and ran a finger across the back of Will's hand, gently, gently. "I'm really new at this, and I'm sure I'm going to frak — _screw_ it up so badly, so … you'll just have to be patient with me."

Lee felt kind of stupid talking to somebody who couldn't answer, but the baby seemed to be calming at the sound of his voice, so he awkwardly continued the monologue as he undid the sides of the diaper.

"Your mom and I, we … we never expected kids, and when we found out, we were both so … _scared_ , because we didn't want to let you down. She keeps telling me she's the screw-up, but she's not the only one. I've done some spectacularly stupid things in my life. I'm surprised your mom's still speaking to me."

He unwittingly proved his own point at that moment, absentmindedly removing his son's diaper and reaching down for the wipes, only to be sprayed full in the face by a thin stream of liquid when he straightened back up.

 _You've never changed a diaper before, have you? Little boys piss all over you when you take their diapers off._

Lee's eyes snapped instinctively shut as Kara's words from a few months ago came back to him, fully and clearly and several minutes too late. Of _course_ he'd forgotten, and of course she'd known he would. An automatic "frak" sprang to his lips but he repressed it, with difficulty, wiping his cheek and — he was sure — blushing furiously.

"Let's not tell your mom about that one, okay? Please?" Lee pleaded.

Will slept on, oblivious. Thankfully, so did Kara.

Clumsily Lee cleaned his son and maneuvered a new diaper on. It was damned hard to keep it in place and stop Will from wiggling and fasten it all at once, and at the very same time be on guard for another assault, but he narrowly managed it, his fingers sliding on the tabs and slipping on the snaps. Somehow he had one snap left over after re-attaching the sleeper, so with a sigh, Lee undid the whole thing and started again. Gods, these baby clothes were fiddly.

He scrutinized his work as he did up the last snap, his brow wrinkling. Something wasn't right here. The diaper didn't look quite like the one he'd removed. Exhaustion was muddying his thought process, making him sleepy and stupid. Another minute ticked by, and finally the answer swam to the surface of his overloaded brain.

He'd put the diaper on backwards.

"Frak," Lee muttered, unable to restrain it this time. Maybe he _should_ have called Ishay, at least for the first time. It had looked so _effortless_ when she'd done it, so quick and efficient. Hopefully, practice made perfect, and hopefully Will would need to be changed again before Kara noticed the mistake.

He was just wrapping his son back up in the blanket when footsteps sounded behind him, heavy but cautious. Not Cottle's or Ishay's, then. Lee turned, Will now swaddled in his arms.

His father stood before him, hovering beside the entrance to the curtained cubicle, hope and uncertainty in equal measure on his face.

"Admiral, sir."

"Lee." Adama's eyes were fixed on the bundle in the younger man's arms. "I got your message. Came as soon as I could."

Lee waited for resentment to sweep over him, for the cynical little voice in his mind to point out that his father couldn't really have been _that_ anxious to see him if the Admiral waited until the end of his shift, but the voice was silent. Instead he thought of Will, of the mistakes he himself had just finished making. Nobody was perfect. Kara had already said once that she wanted her son to know his grandfather. Deep down, Lee wanted that too. Desperately.

He smiled, and he did not have to force that smile as he walked towards his father.

"Dad, you have a new grandson," Lee said softly. "He was born about three hours ago, almost four. He and Kara are doing great."

Adama gazed down for a long moment, just as Lee had done, the gentlest of expressions on his face as he contemplated the infant. "He's perfect, son. Congratulations."

Another time Lee might have thought the remark to be a brush-off, but he couldn't now, not when his father's face had suddenly split into the widest smile possible, perhaps the widest smile he had ever worn. There was pride, there was happiness, there was elation, and a dozen other unclassifiable emotions.

It was for this reason that Lee had no difficulty relating the next bit of information. "His name is William Zakary Adama," he told his father. "For you, and for Zak. We're going to call him Will."

"May I?" the Admiral asked, and if Lee hadn't known better, he might have thought it was emotion clogging the elder's throat as he reached for his grandson. Perhaps it _was_.

"Of course." Without hesitation Lee stepped closer to his father, carefully shifting Will over, keeping his arms underneath the baby until he could be sure Adama had a firm grip.

If he had smiled before, that was nothing to the expression on the Old Man's face now, and nothing of the stern military man remained in William Adama as he held his grandson. For a long time he did not blink, did not say a word, simply swallowed over and over, not removing his gaze from the baby. Then, with one arm, he reached for Lee, pulled him close, embraced him, tightly and firmly and surely, a hug that seemed to say everything he could not express in words.

"Thank you," Bill whispered, and his tone held all the reverence he might have presented to the gods he did not believe in. "Lee, thank you."

Lee told himself that the emotion clogging his father's throat was real, that the embrace was real, over and over. And if he himself felt a clench in his chest, if his own breath had stilled, if there were tears dripping onto his father's uniform jacket, well, that was all right too.

It was a special occasion.


	29. Chapter 29

_Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer._

Her lips moved, soundlessly, in conjunction with the suction at her breast.

 _Please protect your sons, Will Adama and Lee Adama. Please keep them safe and free from pain._

She saw them in her mind, so clearly. Will, new and tiny, representing the weight of family and responsibility in her arms. Lee, the future she'd never thought of having with him, but the future she was now planning, inexorably.

 _Honour the decision I have made and help me to walk the path to see it through to its conclusion._

Fear kept gibbering at the corners of her mind, telling her that she had no claim to this, no right to fall into the arms of her fiancé's older brother, have a child with him, and be a family. She'd killed Zak. There was nothing to say she wouldn't do the same to Lee.

 _Bless me with the courage to give my child two parents who love each other unconditionally. Let him be happy, let him experience freedom, let him feel the sun on his face one day. Protect him from fear._

The suction increased and she winced a little.

 _Let me be there for him. Help me to be a better guardian than those who were entrusted with my protection, and failed. Bless Lee with the knowledge and wisdom to understand that he doesn't need to repeat his father's mistakes. Bless me with that same knowledge. Lords, this is my prayer to you._

Her supplication ended, Kara opened her eyes and let her head fall back against the pillow, tightening her hold on her son as he fed, allowing sensation to wash through her.

She'd had a hell of a lot to get used to in the past couple days, not least of which was the fact that her life, which had previously revolved only around herself (and Lee, on the fringes), had now assumed a completely different orbit. Minutes once ticked past to the rhythm of CAPs, maintenance rotations, flight classes, shitty meals, too little sleep and the occasional roll in the sheets with Lee. She could look at her days, such as they were, and know she'd accomplished _something_ , usually a set of activities that contributed to the security of the fleet.

But the last forty-eight hours were a blur, a crash course in baby care and breastfeeding and all the other components that made up her new life. Kara had little doubt that she would eventually get back in the air — in fact, she was planning to insist on it — but at the moment that seemed patently far away, absurdly inaccessible. Will would cry and she'd feed him, he'd cry and she'd change him, he'd cry and she'd hold him, and then it would be time to repeat the whole process. Too little sleep was again a factor, but she could deal with that. It was nothing new, after all.

What _was_ new was the way her world had shifted, shifted so that she focused purely on the physical needs of her son and herself. Kara hadn't exactly expected to be up running laps around _Galactica_ the day after she gave birth, but she'd believed that many of the most uncomfortable symptoms would vanish, and she was annoyed to discover this wasn't the case. Her abdomen was smaller, though she still looked about six months pregnant, but worse than that, she _hurt_. Every muscle in her body screamed, like they never had after even her most arduous workouts, and the parts actually involved in the delivery were tender, sore, sensitive and made both sitting down and standing up excruciating. A portion of her had previously rolled her eyes at Cottle's assertion that she wouldn't be interested in sex for a long time after the birth, but now she understood all too well. She was already far too close to doing unspeakable things to parts of Lee's anatomy anyway, and if he approached her in _that_ sense, she'd probably tip right over the edge.

Luckily for his reproductive organs, he seemed to realize this, and went only so far as to kiss her, softly and gently and very, very chastely, when he arrived in sickbay and when he left. He was a fixture there, departing only to shower and change, and was with her every step of the way as she and Will learned about each other. Kara was somewhat surprised by this sudden devotion, but she didn't find it unwelcome. On the contrary, it was what she'd secretly been hoping Lee would do during her pregnancy, and what he had failed to do. She could divine no reason for his sudden change of attitude, and resolved to ask him about it.

Now, two and a half days after the birth, Cottle had pronounced her fit to leave sickbay. Kara was unsure on one level — she didn't know if she'd ever be "fit" to be given responsibility for a new life — but on another, she was anxious to just get the hell out of there. Sickbay had never agreed with her at the best of times, and it wasn't doing so at the moment.

Lee was supposed to be coming to help her pack up some of the personal junk she'd accumulated while here — mostly clothes and some toiletries — and transition to their new quarters. Most of their effects were already there, along with the crib and other furnishings and supplies that had been collected for Will, and now it was just a matter of getting there and getting comfortable. She hoped.

She was behind schedule, of course. Seemed like that was inevitable when you had a kid on your hands. Kara had been all set to begin the long process of getting out of bed and getting dressed, but Will had started to cry, so she'd had to stop and feed him before doing anything else. After a rocky start, they'd mostly mastered the food thing, although it definitely wasn't her favourite way of spending her time so far. The constant pressure of the baby at her breast made the nipple sore, and to make matters worse, the kid seemed to want to eat all the time. Topping it all off, her milk had recently come in, which meant in practical terms that her breasts swelled to twice their usual size and grew as hard as rocks. It was like she had two regulation pyramid balls attached to her chest. About the only _good_ thing — besides the fact that Will got fed, obviously — was Lee's reaction when he first walked into sickbay and saw her. He hadn't been able to stop staring, and if she'd had any doubts about the level of his attraction to that particular part of her, they were quickly and permanently put to rest. Helo's joking callsign had never seemed more appropriate.

As if her thoughts had conjured him, Lee pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the cubicle, his eyes lingering on her chest for a fraction of a second too long before moving up to her face. Kara snickered. "Morning, Breast Man."

He winced. "I really wish you'd stop calling me that."

"Okay, _Leland_ ," she grinned, and laughed again at the look on his face. "'Sides, it's Helo's fault. Talk to him."

"Remind me to confiscate his store of lollipops later," Lee muttered. "CAG's privilege."

"Ooh, he won't like that." Kara glanced down as Will, sated, let go. "Here, you wanna pass me that?"

Lee nodded and sat next to her on the bed, handing over the baby blanket she'd indicated. "Hey, buddy," he said softly, stroking his son's hair. "How you doing?"

Kara rolled her eyes a little and spread the blanket over her shoulder, lifting Will to settle there. "He's fine, Lee. Just the same as he was when you saw him three hours ago. Oh, except he's had five shots of ambrosia, field-stripped a semi-automatic in three minutes, and thrown a wild party in the burn ward. And he told me to tell you he thinks Racetrack's hot."

Lee coughed. "Is that all?"

She shrugged. "He puked on Cottle. Which was about as amusing as all of the above would have been."

"Now that, that's funny." Lee played with one of Will's feet. "It probably provoked a lot of unrepeatable words."

"I had to remind him to stop swearing around the kid," Kara said, massaging their son's back as she'd been taught. "He called me a hypocrite. I guess he kind of has a point."

"It's something we'll have to work on," nodded Lee. "Little kids are parrots, from what I've heard. Usually in the most inappropriate situations. Apparently I once told my father's division commander to frak off and never pinch my godsdamned cheek again."

Kara shook with laughter. "Are you _serious?_ Oh my gods!"

"Hey, I was four!"

"Well, it's better than pissing on him," she pointed out, and then smirked as another thought occurred to her. "Which reminds me, it's your turn for diaper duty, Apollo. I seem to recall we had an agreement there."

" _You_ did," he shot back. For some reason, he was blushing.

"Come on, I didn't slave away for nine months making this kid to be denied my entertainment now he's here," Kara told him, carefully transferring the baby to Lee's arms. "You're up, Adama."

Will belched loudly.

"Aww, he likes you," she managed to squeeze out before collapsing in another fit of amusement.

"He's his mother's son," Lee acknowledged, winking at her before moving over to the baby bassinet.

"What, are you complaining about my manners?" Kara snorted.

"No, I'm just saying you may be categorically the wrong person to teach him about decorum, that's all." Regrettably, his back was to her, so she couldn't see what he was doing.

"Oh, of course, you won't rest until our two-day-old kid has a stick up his ass just like his dad, right?" She crossed her eyes at him. "Frak, Lee."

"Language, Kara."

"Shut up." Kara almost threw her pillow at him, but decided it would require too much effort.

To her surprise, he finished up relatively quickly, and didn't seem to make any stupid mistakes like putting the diaper on backwards or messing up the sleeper. If she hadn't known better she would almost have said he'd done this before, but Kara knew that couldn't be the case. He didn't get pissed on, either, a fact with which she felt vaguely disappointed.

Of course, Lee was still quite clumsy around the baby, clumsy and not at all sure of himself. He appeared to be constantly looking for her unspoken approval, making sure what he was doing was okay — a state of affairs that Kara found odd considering it was usually reversed, with Lee granting or withholding approval and she seeking it, if unconsciously. It also seemed strange that he should regard her as the epitome of knowledge about the kid. True, she'd had a steady stream of medical professionals teaching her how to care for Will, but deep down, she continued to fear that she in fact had no idea what she was doing, and that there was no way she'd be able to keep coping. All the sickbay hacks talked about "bonding" as some long involved process that appeared to consist of nothing more than staring into a rugrat's eyes for hours on end until you felt … love? Affection? Something else? Kara didn't know, and she wasn't sure at all if she'd succeeded at it. She wanted her son to be okay, to be fed, to be comfortable, and she would never have ignored him when he cried. Was _that_ bonding? Or was it just a really sneaky way of covering up the fact that she still hadn't quite adjusted to the whole idea of being a mother?

She sighed, and pushed those thoughts from her mind as they began the final preparations to leave.

***

Approximately five minutes after Lee had exited sickbay, his son in one arm and the other around Kara to support her, he noticed something.

People were staring.

He saw curious stares, surprised stares, shocked stares, and even a few that were envious and adoring. He hadn't realized before just how little his fellow crewmembers had known about his relationship with Kara. People could gossip, they could make up rumours and throw money into pools and spread stories around, but actual concrete proof that there was something going on had to be difficult to come by. He was not unused to the crew betting on his sex life — it had been happening for months on end now, and was pretty much par for the course in the closed environment of a battlestar anyway — but this was a different matter altogether. This was the CAG, leaving sickbay with his star pilot, holding a newborn infant. Judging by the expressions on the faces around him, whoever had the rotation in the pool this week was about to get very, very lucky.

"People are looking," Kara hissed in an undertone.

"Just ignore them," he hissed back.

It was different for her, he realized. She hadn't been moving around the ship for the past few days, hadn't heard all the renewed rumours flying around. He could hardly pass a group of his fellow pilots, or the knuckledraggers, without them whispering behind their hands. He'd learned to ignore it, figuring that some things were better left unknown in favour of what was really important: Kara and Will.

"Bastards," she muttered.

He repressed the urge to remind her about language again. "They're curious, Kara, that's all. Babies aren't born on this ship every day."

"Do you think they know he's yours?"

"I would tend to believe that's fairly self-evident, actually," Lee told her. "Besides, since when do you care about your reputation?"

The joke had its desired effect, as she smirked at him and laughed a little. Lee barely had time to enjoy her reaction, however, because as they rounded the next corner they were confronted with none other than Gaius Baltar, leaning against the doorway of his laboratory and apparently wondering what all the fuss was about. The vice-president's eyes went oddly unfocused, then abruptly snapped back front and centre as his jaw fell slightly open.

Lee couldn't resist a small smile.

If he was to be honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he had never quite forgiven Baltar for that interlude with Kara. The fact that she must have been pregnant with Will at the time made it doubly disgusting somehow. Worse still was how Baltar had strutted around afterwards, like he'd won some marvelous prize, like he knew the truth about Kara now and so that gave him something over Lee. For a time, ship-wide gossip had even postulated that she and Baltar would become an item, and Lee would be left on the outside, the jilted former lover. Baltar had done nothing to discourage these rumours.

"Morning, Dr. Baltar," Kara said pleasantly. Lee was glad to hear the undertone of mockery in her voice.

"Captain, is that …" Baltar blinked, staring at Will like he'd just seen a ghost. "Is he your …"

"Yup," she replied, pride now permeating her face as she took the baby from Lee. "This is Will, Will Adama." The emphasis of the last name was not lost on any of the adults present.

"Adama, my gods," muttered the vice-president, and he stared blankly at the opposite bulkhead, apparently lost in thought.

"What the frak is his problem?" Lee grumbled as soon as they'd moved out of earshot. "You would think he's never seen a baby before."

"Language, Leland," Kara drawled, shooting him a satisfied smirk. "Baltar's just …" She screwed her eyes shut, apparently searching for the right word. "Well. Crazy. He's crazy. Insane."

"No, _you're_ insane. That guy is nuts in a _bad_ way."

She shrugged. "Insanity's underrated."

Lee sighed. Maybe what Kara had done was enough to show Baltar up, and maybe it wasn't. He had a feeling he would hold a grudge against the vice-president no matter what, no matter that he was walking down the corridors of _Galactica_ with Kara and she was holding his son and what he had from her was as close to a commitment as had ever existed between them. He was still afraid to ask for anything more. Afraid because he didn't want to send her running, especially not now, not when they had so much more to lose. He wanted to live with her, be with her, share quarters not in the way they had in the senior officers' bunkroom, but as two people who were meant to be a couple would. He wanted to sleep beside her. Curl his body around hers. Feel the slide of skin against skin, not intimately but companionably. Bury his nose in her hair and just inhale, inhale until he was intoxicated by her, until he could sleep surrounded by nothing but her.

Because Lee wanted all of these things, and because he wanted them desperately, he was willing to sacrifice a more permanent commitment. He was willing to let them be tied together just by Will, and not ceremonies or proposals or any of the rest of it. Despite everything, despite the fact that the most tangible reminder of their union was the baby in Kara's arms, she still held status in the back of his mind as Zak's fiancée. Lee had never been able to forget that his little brother had had her first.

He turned back to her now, wrapped his arm around her again. Despite her still-jovial demeanor, she looked drawn and pale, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. "Hey, you wanna stop for a sec? The rec room's just around the corner, we could go in there."

Kara's eyes flashed. "Don't —"

"— take care of you, I know," Lee filled in with a roll of his eyes. "I'm just thinking that it's three more decks down to the family quarters and I don't want to have to carry your sorry ass the rest of the way after you collapse."

"I'm _fine_ ," she scowled.

"Are you?" He looked at her, really looked, into her eyes and at the pinched lines around them, the lines that he knew only appeared when she was suppressing pain.

Kara, never one to back down from a challenge, stared right back, defiance in every inch of her. Will squirmed in her arms, but she paid no attention, glaring, taking deep breaths, her throat working. "Lee," she warned.

"What? Are you going to be a martyr? Is that what you're going for? Kara, how are you going to take care of Will if you're flat on your back exhausted?" Lee still hadn't broken eye contact. "I'm just asking for five minutes. Five minutes, we both sit down, we catch our breaths, we go on. All right?"

"Five minutes," Kara snapped, and started walking again, with effort. She hadn't shrugged off his arm around her shoulder, so he moved it lower, curling around her, feeling the strain in her muscles as she fought to keep herself upright, fought to keep the pain from consuming her. She was breathing hard as they turned into the doorway of the rec room.

Lee had known from the people in the corridors that he and Kara were a curiosity, but he hadn't really grasped to what extent that went until they entered the rec room.

It being relatively early in the morning, almost everyone was gathered there, pilots coming off night shifts and finishing up one last card game before hitting their racks, and pilots gulping shitty caffeine to try and wake up. A low chatter permeated the room as he guided Kara to an empty chair. She eyed the piece of furniture with a mixture of distaste and contempt.

"Take Will," Kara gritted out, and he quickly obeyed, carefully lifting their son to rest on his shoulder. Holding the table in a death grip, she lowered herself inch by inch to the chair, Lee noting with a wince of his own that perhaps a metal seat was not really best for her so soon after the delivery. Her teeth sank deeply into her bottom lip as she made contact with the chair, and even her best Starbuck intentions couldn't prevent the way her features screwed up into a wince when she settled onto the seat.

Lee knew better than to ask if she was okay, knew exactly what kind of answer she'd give. Instead he moved swiftly to block the view of anyone who might be looking, anyone who might see her in this rare moment of weakness, and clasped her free hand to let her squeeze.

"I'm good," said Kara presently, and while her dismissive tone had not changed in the slightest, her eyes held sincere gratitude.

"All right," he nodded, tugging out the chair beside her and sinking into it.

"Five minutes," she growled again through clenched teeth.

"Not a second more, I promise." Lee moved the ever-present baby blanket to his other shoulder and shifted Will, who had fallen fast asleep.

It took him another moment to realize that the noise level in the room at large had taken a drastic plunge, and numerous pairs of eyes now regarded both him and Kara with something close to open astonishment. He couldn't really understand why — gods, hadn't they been a topic of gossip forever now? — but it occurred to him that perhaps the others were just amazed that Apollo and Starbuck weren't trying to hide it anymore. They'd probably been far less circumspect than he had thought.

Typically, Hot Dog was the first to comment. "Hey, Starbuck, who's the new man in your life?"

Kat wolf-whistled.

Kara, for her part, gave as good as she got. "Which one, Costanza?"

A ripple of laughter circled the room.

"So, you shacking up with Apollo now, Starbuck?" Kat snickered. "Gonna let me take your Top Gun mug and be a broodmare, raise a bunch of nuggets?"

Lee felt himself blushing hotly.

"You're just afraid I won't be back up in the air to kick your ass," Kara taunted, not a trace of embarrassment present on her face. "Six more weeks and I'm flying again."

"Oh yeah?"

Kara bared her teeth, a feral grin. "Count on it."

Racetrack ventured over from where she'd been standing by the hatch, examining Will for a long moment. "He's kinda cute," she admitted. "Real wrinkly, but cute. Sort of like you, Apollo."

"Gee, thanks." Lee rolled his eyes.

"May I?" Maggie asked, holding out her arms.

He looked briefly to Kara, making sure she was okay with it, and then rose to carefully slide his son over, letting go only when he was certain Racetrack had a firm grip.

For a few moments she just looked at Will, gazing at his face, his feet, his arms, swaying slightly and automatically to soothe him. Her finger came up to caress his hair, gently, and then to press into his palm. The infant instantly tightened his grasp.

"My gods," Racetrack murmured, and Lee was about to ask what the hell was so interesting when she went on. "I — I can't remember the last time I saw a baby. Not one this young, or this little."

The other pilots were murmuring their assent, nodding, awestruck expressions right back on their faces. It was the last reaction Lee would have expected from a room of battle-hardened soldiers … yet now he thought about it, he had to admit it made a certain kind of strange sense. For close to a year now, they'd all been on the run, fighting for their lives, never knowing when the Cylons might show up to finish them all off. Considerations that might normally have occupied their lives, like relationships and advancing their careers and perhaps even marriage and family, had been pushed aside in favour of minute-to-minute concerns. Survival concerns, like having enough food, collecting enough potable water, making sure the birds were in good enough shape to go out and shoot Raiders, security shifts … everything that needed to be done to ensure that the fleet lived to fight another day. Civilians might be able to try and put their lives back together, might be able to reestablish some semblance of the routines they had enjoyed before the attacks, but for the Colonial Fleet, life was still being experienced in the moment, and it would not cease to be so until they either found Earth or perished in the attempt.

Sometimes, it was easy to lose sight of what you were fighting for. Lords knew that had happened to Lee, and very recently. It was easy to wonder just what you were so desperate to get back. People could forget, people could let that future drown in minutiae and in things that inevitably seemed far more important right in the moment. But when it came right down to basics, this was what they desired. Not everyone wanted children, a spouse, a house with a porch swing. Not everyone had the choice. But they wanted their lives back, their old lives, their _good_ lives. Will, small and vulnerable and new as he was, represented that.

For all of those reasons, pilots were rising, smiling, coming over to where Racetrack stood, surrounding her and grinning unabashedly at the child. Hot Dog was making faces at Will while Beano tickled the baby's toes, and even Kat stroked the infant's hair. Will slept on, oblivious to his sudden celebrity status.

Lee tore his eyes away from that scene for a moment, intending to catch Kara's eye again, but instead found her in conversation with Karl Agathon, who'd materialized at her side.

"What the frak is all this, Helo?" she asked, looking at once puzzled and slightly nervous. "The bastards are going nuts."

"He's hope, Kara," Helo answered, echoing Lee's earlier thoughts. Karl had met Will earlier and was just as besotted with the kid as everybody else now appeared to be. "You heard Racetrack, nobody's seen a baby in months and months now. Everybody keeps telling us what we're trying to save, but we have to see it, too. The fact that Will is here, against all the odds, shows us there's something about all this worth keeping."

Kara gazed at nothing for a long moment. "Look, what you said back on Caprica, about … about someone running fast enough to catch up with me —"

"You're welcome," interrupted Karl, a broad smile splitting his face. "I told you Lee was a runner."

Lee blinked. "Excuse me?"

Kara smirked. "Let's just say you owe Helo here a _lot_ of lollipops."


	30. Chapter 30

The hatch was the same.

Blank, frigid, unforgiving. Nothing had changed, not the Marines standing stiff guard outside, not the way his father's voice sounded as it called him to come in, nor how the hatch squeaked and clanked and protested as ancient, rusty hinges were abused. Before, all of that had felt threatening. All of it had served as a reminder that he was in over his head, that he had no idea what he was doing or where he was going. The combined weight of the expectations had settled on his shoulders like a barbell that he couldn't ever lift off.

Lee still hadn't gotten rid of it, and he doubted if he ever would. But he had started to feel, over the last month, that maybe the weight had begun to lessen very slightly.

The hatch looked friendlier now, as did the atmosphere of his father's office, the leather couches seeming almost sinfully inviting. Then again, _any_ flat surface could when you were running on too little sleep and too much coffee. What he wouldn't give just to lie down and doze … for a minute, an hour … maybe a century.

A quiet gurgle drew Lee's attention away from sleep and back to Will, in his arms. The baby had already shown a distinct preference for being in motion, especially if said motion happened to involve either of his parents carrying him around. Lee had lost count of the number of times he'd circled his and Kara's shared quarters with his son, and he was beginning to memorize the circular path of the corridors on their level of the ship. Sometimes, it was the only way to get Will to calm down enough to sleep.

"We're gonna go visit Grandpa, okay, buddy?" he said softly, repositioning the one-month-old in his arms. "Let Mama get a bit of rest."

As had happened so often over the past four weeks, Bill Adama's face split into a wide smile when he saw them. Whenever his grandson was around, the Admiral had become amazingly carefree about work, usually to the extent that he'd drop whatever he was doing at the time if an opportunity to see Will presented itself. Lee hadn't quite gotten used to his father's new attitude yet, mainly because it was so different from the one the older man had had before, but neither was he complaining. In fact, part of him felt quite proud of his father.

"I hope you don't mind a little social call, Dad," Lee said as he sank onto one of the couches, eternally grateful to be sitting down again. "I told Kara I'd walk him around for awhile if she slept, because she really needs the rest."

"Don't worry about it," Bill replied, turning his gaze to the baby. "How's she doing?"

"She's all right." Will whimpered, not appreciating being still, and Lee turned him again so he could see his grandfather. "She's tired, obviously, we both are, but she has a tough time sleeping when Will does. It's like she's afraid he'll cry and she won't wake up in time to feed him or hold him or whatever has to be done. We think he's going through a growth spurt now, so he's eating a lot more than usual."

"Yeah, he looks bigger."

"He's just been fed now, and I got her to promise me she'd take a nap while I had him out of our quarters." Lee shook his head, stifling a yawn. "Kara's stubborn as hell, I'll give her that."

"She certainly is." Bill stroked the bottom of the baby's foot. "Did she tell you she went to Cottle a week ago to see if he'd grant her flight status back early?"

The younger man sighed. "Yeah, we argued about it, believe me. I think she wants to get back up in the air because of the new Raider taking out pilots, that Scar. She keeps saying she could take him down, that the fleet needs the Top Gun. I just wish she'd remember there's somebody else down here who needs her. She can't be flying three-hour CAPs while she's still nursing."

"Will's not the only one who needs her here, either," the Admiral said, and under Bill's penetrating stare, Lee could not disagree with that assessment.

"Anyway, we yelled all kinds of crap at each other. Kara said I'm being overprotective. I answered with … some stupid things. Past things. Standard operating procedure, really." He did not add that in absence of their usual method of making up — frakking each other's brains out — Kara had refused to speak to him for almost two entire days, sleeping on the very edge of their shared bed and not saying a word as they cared for Will. They'd only reconciled when he'd not been able to stand it any longer and reached for her, pulling her close to him in bed, amazed at her lack of protest. Things had been civil between them since, though by no means completely better.

Bill grasped the unspoken meaning. "Zak, right?"

"She still feels guilty about what happened," Lee nodded. "Whether she should or not doesn't matter; it's a very real emotion to her. And now that she and I are … well, whatever we are, I know she's scared. I can see it in her eyes when she watches me with the baby. Kara looks at all the pilots who've gotten killed and she sees Zak, and she blames herself for not being able to protect them."

"But it's not her fault."

He shrugged. "She won't listen when I tell her that. I've tried to convince her, but she's so sure she'll screw up."

"You have to show her, Lee," Bill said gently. "Words, empty promises, I don't think they mean a whole lot to Kara. Everybody screws up — we're human, we make mistakes, but those mistakes should not be a platform on which others stand and condemn. Show her that your love is not conditional upon her perfection."

 _But it never has been!_

The words sprang immediately to Lee's lips, but he didn't say them. He was suddenly remembering Colonial Day, the encounter with Kara in the hangar deck the morning after. At the time, he'd been so blinded by anger and betrayal that he hadn't bothered to consider her point of view, hadn't even admitted to himself that she might have one. With the distance of months, some of the anger had faded, and while it still set his teeth on edge to remember the incident, Lee could understand now that he'd scared her, sent her running, that she wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. The fact that she'd run had been a mistake. A terrible mistake, a mistake that drove a wedge between them and might have dealt permanent damage to their relationship had it not been for Will. And instead of trying to understand, instead of asking her for her point of view, he'd pushed her, pressed her, demanded an explanation, gotten even more pissed when she didn't give him one. Then he'd all but called her a whore, and if _that_ didn't completely shut down the conversation, nothing would.

 _Show her that your love is not conditional upon her perfection._

Gods, hadn't she done that for him? After all, Kara wasn't the only one who'd made mistakes. Lee had too, and in some ways his came from the same source: fear. He'd been distant, cold, horribly uncaring for most of her pregnancy, and then had seized upon the first and most insignificant bit of shipboard gossip to try, convict and sentence her before she could even get a word in edgewise. Given all of this, there was no way Kara should even still be speaking to him, let alone allowing him to associate with her child, but she was. She had shown him that her love was unconditional. He had not.

"Maybe you're right." Lee could barely raise his voice above a whisper.

Bill offered a small smile. "Kara has an astonishing capacity for selfless love. She may not realize that, but I've seen it. She also has an astonishing capacity for self-flagellation, even when it's not warranted. Don't give her any more reasons to punish herself."

At one time Lee might have considered that advice slightly hypocritical given his father's own track record in wielding the weapon of guilt to command their interactions. But now, with the reality of Dad's words sinking in, he couldn't find it in himself to complain.

Besides, his own son was squirming in his lap, whimpering again, apparently distinctly displeased with the lack of attention. Lee carefully lifted Will onto his shoulder, rubbing his back and murmuring comfort.

"Can I … can I hold him?" Bill asked tentatively.

Lee chuckled quietly to himself. For an Admiral, a man who commanded two battlestars and could strike fear into the hearts of Cylon and human alike, the Old Man sounded almost … shy. "Sure, but I think you might prefer it if I change him first," he said as a familiar odour reached his nose. "It'll only take a second."

"Right."

Since that first rocky night in sickbay, Lee figured he'd changed roughly six hundred diapers, and he also suspected that he could change his son's diaper while blindfolded, gagged and bound if necessary. Changes at night amounted to the same thing anyway, when he was so exhausted he could barely remember his own name. He'd learned to master the fine art of waking up just enough that he could complete the task before him, but not so much that he couldn't fall back asleep afterwards. Kara had it no easier, required as she was to actually feed Will. Cottle was confident that she could eventually begin pumping milk to give to her son in a bottle, especially once she went back on duty, but he insisted it was better for the baby to learn to take it from her breast first.

Now, Lee was completely awake, if not perhaps very energetic, and he accomplished the job with little difficulty or fanfare. To Kara's apparent disappointment, a byproduct of his becoming adept with diaper changes was that he hadn't been pissed on, at least not as spectacularly as the first time (which he still hadn't told her about). There had been one embarrassing incident involving an exploded diaper and a stained pair of tanks, which she'd teased him about for a couple of days, but their subsequent fight had stopped that in its tracks.

Task finished, supplies put away, Lee leaned his head back against the couch, allowing his eyes to fall shut for just a moment, a luxurious, indulgent moment. Will was now quiet and dry and resting on his grandfather's lap.

"Tired?" the Admiral asked.

"Yeah, he, ah …" This time Lee yawned widely and deeply, unable to stop himself. "Sorry, it's just … Will doesn't really know the difference between night and day yet. He doesn't know his parents prefer to sleep at night rather than wake up every couple hours, or that his dad has to be on duty bright and early. We're managing, but it's tough. Kara and I walk around half-asleep most of the time. The other day Duck had to repeat himself three times before I even realized he'd said something."

"First three months are the hardest," Bill acknowledged, gently rocking his grandson. "And I wish I could give you more time off, but —"

"We can't spare the manpower," Lee interjected with a nod as he rubbed his eyes. "I know. We were short-staffed already, and that was before Kara went on mat leave. Dad, I get it. I do. It's fine."

"I just hate to see you under so much pressure, that's all. I remember what it was like after your brother was born, and your mother and I weren't running from the Cylons then. It must be three times as bad now."

Once upon a time, this might have been an opportunity for Lee to start an argument, or at the very least to get angry and wonder how his father could possibly know that if he hadn't been there. Now, he just didn't have the energy. And anyway, he was sick and tired of chasing the same ghosts around and around and around. It sure as hell wasn't going to change anything.

He was silent for a while longer, just watching Dad with Will, the way grandfather and grandson interacted, the infant sitting in the crook of the Admiral's arms as the Old Man stroked his hair and pressed a finger into his palm and spoke softly to him. Lee didn't need to hear those words, because he knew they were the same murmurings of devotion that he himself used with his son when they were alone together.

Had Dad done the same with Zak? Had he held him, whispered to him, promised him the stars? Had Bill believed he would be in this same position, but with Zak as the one who'd given him a grandchild? Had he imagined that grandchild, once Zak announced that Kara had agreed to marry him?

What would Zak himself think? Will was his nephew. What the hell would he think now, if he could see Kara with Lee, and know that they had a son together?

Lee sighed. This wasn't the time for that.

Maybe one day he'd get up the courage to ask his father what he thought, to demand a pure, unvarnished opinion from Bill. But now, he was too tired to hear it. Too tired to think about it.

Too tired. And too cowardly.

***

 _"I'm coming back. I said it, I meant it."_

His eyes were soft, determined, no longer full of disbelief the way they had been the last time she'd made her promise. He was close to her … gods, so close she could taste him, taste the feel of him on her lips, the prickle of beard. His voice rumbled up, low and husky, and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he said the words.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Sam replied.

"I'm coming back," Kara said again, as much to herself as to him. Savouring his fingers twining with hers, the way he raised her hand to press a kiss to her skin. She wanted to touch his mouth, she wanted to hug him, but so many things inside of her held her back.

The scene flashed, once, twice, and she couldn't see, she'd been blinded. She screamed, screamed for him, knowing something had happened, something terrible and she hadn't — been — in — time —

"SAM!"

He was dead at her feet. Dead, the life leached from his eyes, cold stone under her touch.

"SAMMY!"

He didn't answer. His head was bent at an unnatural angle, neck broken, bloody gashes on his face, one arm split nearly to the bone, hanging —

"Kara."

She didn't turn. She needed to look at Sam, to see him with her own eyes. She owed him this much. Her tag, still around his neck, stained with his blood —

"Kara!"

Her fault, all her fault, just like Zak, just like the pilots —

"Kara!"

She jerked awake, breath coming hard and fast. Gasps.

"Kara, hey, are you okay?"

Sam?

She kept her eyes closed, testing, testing. He was right beside her, lying on the bed, pressing into her.

No. Not Sam.

Lee. She would know him anywhere, could pick him out in a crowd almost instantly, just by his scent.

"Kara. Hey." His hands in her hair, brushing it back from her cheeks, probing, searching. Lords he was persistent.

"Godsdammit, Lee, get the frak off." Kara pushed at him, gently, and was inexplicably relieved when he moved away slightly. Finally she opened her eyes, brushed sweat from her face.

"You were yelling," Lee said, and close to, he looked shaken. "I thought you'd wake Will."

Momentary panic. Her eyes scanned the room; she couldn't see her son. "Where the hell is he?"

"He fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago, so I put him down for a nap." Lee inched closer, and for the first time, she noticed he was not wearing a shirt. "Kara, what the hell was that?"

"A nightmare, Lee. Surely you're familiar with the concept." Determinedly she turned away, hunting for her water bottle. "And no, I do not want to talk about it so you may as well just drop the subject right frakking now."

He exhaled a gusty sigh, but did not press the point. "What do you need?"

Kara clenched her teeth, bitterness invading her that he was asking, that she was rattled enough and tired enough to need help. She was Starbuck. Starbuck didn't ask for anything, or anybody.

 _Dead Sam. Dead Barolay. Dead Sue-Shaun, Beano, Zak —_

"Water," she bit off.

Lee pressed a new bottle into her palm and Kara exhaled a slow breath, holding the chilled plastic against her sweaty forehead. She opened the water, drank, one swallow, two, enough until she felt calmer and could swing her legs back up onto the bed.

"Kara —" began Lee.

"I said, _drop it_." She put a hand on his bicep, pulled him back down onto the bed beside her. "Why the frak are you half-naked, anyway?"

"Well, I _was_ changing my clothes, but …" His voice trailed off as Kara draped her arm around his shoulder, forcing him closer. "I guess I'm not now."

"Damn straight." She lay across him, her head under his chin, suddenly wanting the proximity, needing to orient her mind in another direction. So good to feel the warmth of skin-to-skin contact, to feel so human, the soft hair of his chest against her cheek and his hand on hers. They hadn't had this in far too long.

Lee sighed softly, inhaling and exhaling so that she rose and fell. He seemed to be drawing up courage to say something. "Look, this … this thing with the pilots, with Scar, you know that's not your fault, right? You might think you could make it better by being out there, but the reality is you'd just be one more target for Scar to shoot at. Beano was experienced, you know he was, and all his experience didn't count for shit. And BB was trained, he knew what to do."

Kara sipped her water. "I really don't want to talk about this right now."

She tried not to think of the way Beano had held Will in the rec room, had tickled his feet and grinned and laughed. Nor of BB, whom she hadn't even really known.

"Maybe not, but I think you need to hear it."

"Lee, the fleet needs me!"

"Other people need you too," Lee said quietly. "Two people, right here, right in this room. You're not just a pilot anymore, Kara. You're a pilot, and you're my son's mother, and you keep me sane, and …"

" _I_ keep _you_ sane?" Kara snorted, conveniently sidestepping the issue. "If that's what you think, we're really in trouble."

"I'm being _serious_ here."

"Yeah, when aren't you." She slapped his chest, which started a brief shoving match that ended only when Kara cupped his face, pulling him closer for a lingering kiss. Lee was responsive at first, his tongue darting out to lick briefly at her lips, but when she broke the embrace he simply guided her back down to her previous position.

 _Damn._

Kara blew a slow breath across his chest, watched his nipple harden. Lee was stroking her hair now, but not in a way that made her believe he was actually going anywhere with this.

"You know what gets me?" he murmured after a few moments. "I know that in two weeks, I won't remember BB's face. I can't remember any of their faces after they're killed. No matter how hard I try, they just fade."

And no matter how hard she tried, she _couldn't_ wipe Sam's face from her memory, replaying the hopeful expression in his eyes over and over and over. "I don't even remember their names."

"Names. Oh, let's see, there was — there was Flattop." He jerked slightly as Kara raised one finger and spat water over his stomach. "Who bought it on his thousandth landing. There was Chuckles — stop it already!" Lee laughed when she put up another finger, spitting more water. "Please, not funny, all right, it's not funny."

"Is so," she shot back, and she was grinning, grinning for the first time in gods knew how long while she smeared the wetness around his navel. "You know, the president says we're saving humanity for a bright shiny future, on Earth. That you and I are never gonna see."

Kara could feel Lee about to object by the way his chest filled with air, and she hurried on before he could say anything.

"We're not," she insisted. "Because we go out over and over again until someday, some metal motherfrakker is gonna catch us on a bad day and just … blow us away."

This time he did speak, his chin resting against the top of her head. "You know, I used to think that too. I used to think bright shiny futures were overrated. After Gianne, after the attacks, I figured that if I could just … do my job, be a pilot, shoot Cylons out of the sky, none of the rest of it mattered. But I don't think that anymore."

Kara chuckled. "And you call _me_ insane."

"Insanity's underrated," Lee shrugged. "Just like you said. I still believe we can't ever let a moment pass by without making the most of it, without … seizing it and getting all we can out of it. But after Will was born … every time I see you with him, every time I see my father with him, I think maybe there's something to that future after all. I look at Will and I realize he _is_ the future. And I want to see him grow, I want to know what his first word's going to be and whether he likes to read and I want to embarrass all his girlfriends when he brings them by, and …"

"You're getting way the frak ahead of yourself," she warned.

"Maybe I am," he acknowledged after a moment. "But that doesn't make me want it any less."

Now Kara was the one to sigh. She couldn't deny that the idea had appeal, seeing a future in their child like that. But for almost a year, her only focus had been on the present, with good reason. If she was to be honest with herself, she'd lived solely in the present for far longer than a year. It kept unpleasant things, like memories, from getting in the way. Wasn't that her problem now, anyway? Focusing on the past, remembering Sam, hoping against hope that she might be able to return with a rescue party in the future? Cataloguing her failure with Zak and comparing and contrasting it to the pilots claimed by Scar? Lords, the past and the future were too damn messy.

"I still say we gotta get what we can." Kara sipped from her water bottle. "And we've gotta get it right now."

"I'll drink to that too." Lee took the water bottle and chugged some down while she went back to tracing his stomach.

His stomach … the definition of his muscles, his navel, his chest. Apollo really was a perfect callsign for him, though of course she'd never say so. It would go to his head so frakkin' fast. But Lee certainly kept himself in very good shape, and one of the side benefits of his perfection-driven exercise regime was that it made him easy on the eyes. When he'd first come aboard _Galactica_ , she had to make an effort not to stare while in the communal head — staring being strictly taboo — but after that night in sickbay, all bets were off. Sometimes she still couldn't quite believe that he felt the same way, that he welcomed her glances, that he didn't mind if she looked.

Kara skimmed her palm down his abdomen, nervous anticipation a slow burn inside her. "So, why don't we?"

"Why don't we … what?"

She raised up on her knees and kissed him again, firmer, harder, putting more intent behind it. "Come on, Lee … the kid's asleep, we've got this huge bed to break in …" Apprehension gnawed at her, but she pushed it down, shoved it away. She needed this. _Needed_ this, no matter how much it would hurt, and it'd hurt, she was sure of that, since she wasn't finished healing — but frak that, frak it all, because if there was one thing sex was good for, it was making you forget … wiping things from your mind … like pilots, flying … a certain pyramid player …

"Kara —" Lee started, but she swallowed his objection with another kiss and dipped her hand into his shorts, tugging, cupping, feeling him start to harden under her fingers. _Men's baser instincts will out_ , Kara thought gratefully, as for a moment, he gave himself to the embrace, needy and desperate, moaning into her mouth when she squeezed his length.

She broke away for a second, just a second, to free him from the boxers, but that was all he needed to grab her wrist. "Kara, we can't."

"And why the hell not, because you're afraid to get your rocks off in the same room as your kid?" Kara snapped. "My gods, you are such a tightass sometimes!"

"It's got nothing to do with that." Gently, his other hand came up to touch her face. "Cottle hasn't cleared you yet, remember? He said six weeks at least and it's barely been four. I don't want to hurt you."

"Shouldn't that be _my_ call?" She wrenched her arm away. "Look, if you're really that freaked out about it I'll just get you off and that'll be it, all right? Nice and easy." And not as distracting as she'd hoped, but it would be a diversion.

Kara thought she had him there, thought there was no way he could object given how his eyes fell shut and a soft gasp stuttered from his mouth as her thumb brushed the tip of his cock. His fingers found her wrist again and pressed her hand down, up, down again, until she drifted her palm over that sensitive spot on the underside that she knew he especially liked her to touch. Lee groaned breathily, open-mouthed, and the sound sent liquid heat rushing through her.

"See?" Kara whispered triumphantly. "Come on, we can do this, it's been too godsdamned long —"

It was this which finally seemed to snap him back to reality. His hand tightened on hers again, but with the intent to stop rather than to encourage. "Kara. _No._ "

Sam burst back into her mind and she jerked away as though she'd been burned, fury suddenly flaring. "What the _frak_ is wrong with you?" Kara demanded, hurt and rejection and fear and longing and a thousand other emotions boiling inside her. Lee opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he could get a word out. "Okay, you know what? I don't wanna know. I don't wanna know!"

"Kara, listen to me —"

"I just wanted a good lay, all right?" She grabbed for her tanks and tugged them on over the hideous-but-necessary nursing bra she already wore. "I wanted to get you off and forget, but if you can't even handle that —"

"I told you, this isn't about that," Lee cut her off. "Look, when we do this there needs to be something for both of us, not just me! Kara, I'd like nothing more than for you to keep going, you know I would. But I can't get it this way. I need you to be right there with me, I need to do everything to you that you're doing to me. And right now, you _can't_. _You can't_. I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's true!"

"Frak you," growled Kara, sliding off the bed. "Or wait, no, I guess I can't, because you have to go and be a frakking — _idiot_ about it! Godsdamn you! I just want you to — I just _want_ —"

Her fingers came up, ripping through her hair. She wanted to scream, wanted her brain to explode, wanted to crawl out of her own stupid skin.

He made as if to reach for her, but sighed instead and tucked himself back into his shorts. "Maybe you think I _am_ just a good lay, but we both know the truth. You and I mean more to each other than that. You're my friend, Kara, my _best_ friend, and …"

"Stop," Kara spat. _I said it. I meant it._ She squeezed her eyes shut, infuriated to find tears there. "I am hung up on a dead guy, okay? And it is pissing me off, and … I don't know what I'm doing …"

This time Lee did get up, starting towards her, but Kara skirted the edge of the bed and headed for the door. She had to get out — gods only knew where, but she couldn't stay here, not now.

"Kara, if you're talking about the promise you made to Sam, I can help you," he pleaded. "Let me help you."

"I don't need your pity, Lee!"

 _I'm coming back._

Sam's eyes, trusting, sure —

 _Yeah. Yeah, okay._

She spun, twisted the wheel, yanked open the hatch.

Ran.


	31. Chapter 31

Water.

 _Ugh._

Gods, she needed something more than this. Something that would slide down her throat and leave a burning trail behind, something that would numb her enough not to _feel_ anything as it spread through her veins. Something heavily alcoholic, something to let her check out of reality and not wake until a time of her choosing. Water did none of these things.

The alcohol was still forbidden to her, though, and would be so as long as she continued to nurse. Will needed her milk, it was best for him, and gods knew it was pretty much the _only_ thing right now, so she continued to avoid all her usual vices. Doing so hadn't been difficult until now.

Kara sipped the water in her ever-present bottle and pretended it was booze, pretended that she'd feel the euphoria of drink sweeping through her body in just a matter of moments. She'd been lying to herself like this for half an hour as she sat in the observation deck, a seat towards the back so there'd be no chance of the CAP spotting her. She didn't really know how she ended up here; only that it seemed like the closest she could get to flying and looping and backflipping in her Viper. Distant asteroids whirled past, and if she squinted, she could just see the mining ship working away extracting tylium.

She should be there. She _should_ be risking her life with them, because that was her _job_ , godsdammit. It didn't matter what Lee said or what her current circumstance might be. Kara Thrace wasn't cut out to sit on her ass and pop out babies. She loved Will. She worried for him, wondered what kind of future he'd have. She was grateful in some ways that he had drawn her closer to Lee. But he also represented a life she'd never intended. A life she never _wanted_. She had made her decision and she was committed to it and to her son. But her true place was in the air. Shooting toasters.

Killing Scar.

Rescuing — rescuing —

She couldn't think his name.

He probably _was_ dead by now. Kara couldn't envision any plausible circumstance under which he might still live. She'd seen how tenuous the Resistance's circumstances were when she visited Caprica, and her warning to them that they would die there had not been based on anything but sound military judgment. Any way they wanted to look at it, their enemy was better equipped, more numerous and controlled more territory. _And_ it couldn't die. What the hell was the point of attacking random convoys, bombing Raiders, blowing up Farms? The Cylons could rebuild all of those things, and quickly too. It was like she'd said to Lee: sooner or later the Resistance would make a mistake, would have a bad day, would misjudge a target, and that would be it. They'd be blown away.

Probably, they already had been.

Kara swiped furiously at her cheeks. She would not cry. She would _not_.

More than anything she wanted to see Sam. Wanted to make sure he was okay. Wanted to bring back the dead pilots, resurrect them like the toasters did.

The hatch behind her clanked ominously, the sound of somebody about to enter into her midst, and Kara hunched down in the seat. She really, _really_ didn't want to talk to anyone right now. She just wanted to keep breathing, keep existing, keep staggering from one moment to the next because maybe then (maybe, maybe) the pain would end.

At the instant light flooded the room, she heard it: a baby's wail, insistent and loud and very, very hungry, and then the door swung shut and the noise was even worse in the small space.

"Kara?"

Oh, for frak's sake.

She didn't want to turn, but Kara was already doing it automatically, mechanically, as her chest tingled in that weird way it always seemed to when Will was crying and her milk was about to come. Sure enough, Lee stood there with their son in one hand and a pillow in the other, looking embarrassed and confused and relieved all at the same time, and in another situation she might have found it kind of … endearing, really. But not now. Now, her life was intruding again, as it always seemed to these days.

Of course, Lee was sitting right down in the seat next to her like this had been a pre-arranged appointment. Kara did not turn, did not look him in the eye, just concentrated on lifting her shirts, unclasping her bra. This was strictly a business call. Nothing more and nothing less.

"Pillow," Kara said tersely, and Lee handed it over. She took Will from him too, stroking the infant's cheek with her nipple the way she'd been taught to do when he was agitated. He quieted almost immediately, still red-faced and sweaty from crying, a little furrow in his brow forming as he latched. She nearly smiled, realizing she recognized that expression — it was exactly like the one Lee wore whenever he was frustrated with something. Kara brushed a hand gently through her son's hair, relieved to have something else, _someone_ else, to focus on, and wiped some of the tears from his cheeks.

He just suckled on, but he was looking at her, and gods damn her if those eyes weren't the same. And Will wasn't judging, wasn't condemning, wasn't reflecting her failures back at her. Of course, he _couldn't_ — he was a month-old baby — and she knew he was getting a hell of a lot of satisfaction just from feeding. But he craved her, craved contact with both his parents, and sometimes he only wanted to be held, not fed or put to sleep but _held_ , comforted. This was something Kara had been surprised to discover she could do. Will seemed happier when he was in her arms. He gave her faith that maybe, maybe, if she kept trying hard enough, he was something she could get right in her life for a change.

The infant sighed softly, a sigh she'd come to realize meant that he was finally feeling relief from hunger, and the sound was beautiful. Kara pulled him closer, massaged his stomach.

"What?" Lee asked quietly. He must have noticed the change in her demeanor, though she'd almost forgotten he was there.

Kara cleared her throat and struggled for a flippant response. "I, um — I was just thinking how much he looks like you," she managed finally.

He smiled, apparently touched. "Really?"

"Yeah, that's exactly how _you_ look when you've got your mouth on my tit," she grinned back.

Lee rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

"Come on, Lee, he had to get it from _some_ where, and I think everybody knows how partial you are to that particular asset of mine."

He said nothing, just rolled his eyes again and moved closer, like he wanted to cuddle or something. Kara kept her eyes down, fixed on Will, trying to recapture the sense of peace she'd felt a few moments earlier. It darted unhelpfully out of reach, like a fact she couldn't quite remember.

"Look, I … I'm sorry I had to bring him down here," Lee told her after another minute. "I know after — after what happened, you probably wanted to be alone, and —"

"It's fine," Kara interrupted, watching through the glass as a Viper pivoted on its end around an asteroid. "You don't exactly have the goods for this job, Apollo."

"Unfortunately not," he agreed, and his arm slithered around her shoulder. Kara tensed, but did not otherwise react. "And I … I honestly wish we could have finished what we started, Kara. I do."

"Funny, it sure didn't seem that way at the time," she sneered. Shame at lashing out pierced her momentarily, but she shoved it down.

"You didn't see me after," Lee countered. He was blushing, very faintly. "It took me fifteen minutes to, ah …"

"Calm down?" Now Kara snickered.

"Well, um …"

"You are such a prude."

He ignored the jibe. "I meant what I said about not hurting you. I meant every word. And I think that's more important for either of us right now than getting off."

"Sure," Kara said tonelessly.

 _The problem, Lee, is that I can never make you a promise like that. I can never say I won't hurt you. Because I've said that to two other people, and it was a lie._

I'm afraid of myself.

I want to be out there shooting Cylons because then I can forget.

Three sets of words rushed up to her mouth, but she couldn't say them. She couldn't.

"I meant something else, too." His hand came up, touched her cheek. "I said I would help you with Sam."

Kara inhaled, the breath sounding far shakier than she wished it would. "Lee, you don't have to —"

"Yes. I do." Quiet determination permeated his voice. "Because I can see that it's important to you, that _he's_ important to you, and I respect that."

"What's the point?" Now she felt hollow, lost. "He's dead."

Lee drew her head down to his shoulder, and this time she did not resist. "Kara, if you didn't think he had a chance of surviving, why'd you promise to return with a rescue party?"

"I thought I was —" Kara stopped against the clench in her throat, pressing her face into his uniform jacket so he couldn't see the moisture in her eyes. "I don't know what I thought."

"It doesn't matter. All right?" Lee's voice was firm, certain. "It doesn't matter, because you're going back to Caprica, and you're going to rescue him."

"Lee, I've _tried!_ " she exclaimed, and Will startled at the sudden noise, letting go of her nipple. Wearily she paused, switching him to her left breast. "I don't know _how_ many godsdamned times I have asked your father, and Roslin, to give me clearance for the mission. And they keep saying the same things, that it's too far and we'd waste too many resources and we have to think of the fleet's safety. They're not going to change their minds!"

"Maybe not as it stands right now," he acknowledged. "But I cornered Gaeta in the mess the other day, and asked him about the idea of hooking the heavy Raider's FTL drives to a squadron of Raptors. He told me it's not only theoretically possible, but if the Raider's capabilities are similar to those of the one you flew, it might get back to Caprica in less than thirty jumps."

Hope, traitorous, tantalizing, beautiful hope, rose within her. Thirty jumps was a far cry from the two hundred and seventy-five she'd originally estimated for _Galactica_. If they were able to leave the two battlestars behind to guard the civilian fleet and simply take a bunch of Raptors — using much less fuel and resources along the way — how the hell could the Admiral possibly object? It would constitute a risk in terms of personnel, but …

"I don't know if, um … if they'll listen to another plan," Kara admitted, a blush colouring her cheeks. "I've presented two to them already and —"

"I'll back you up," Lee said simply. "With both of us there, plus Gaeta, they won't have any choice but to take a serious look at it."

If she had a thousand years, she wasn't sure she would be able to catalogue the myriad of emotions running through her. Gratitude, amazement, fear, hope, desperation … Kara swallowed and seized the first thought, the overarching thought, the one that informed all others. "Why the hell are you doing this, Lee?"

"You mean what's in it for me?" He winked.

"Well … yeah. I guess." Putting it in those terms was awkward, but accurate.

Lee started stroking her cheek again. "I want you to be happy, Kara. I want to do everything I can to make that happen. Because I love — I care about you."

"You love me," she stated, astonished at her own boldness.

"I — I don't want to scare you." He looked away.

"I'm not scared," Kara said, and she was surprised to discover that she meant it. Months ago, that simple statement would have terrified her. It _had_ terrified her. But that was before Will, and before they'd started living together, and before she'd realized what it was like to exist alongside Lee when he didn't seem to care about her. The words still sent a tingle of apprehension through her, and she wasn't sure when she might be able to say them back. Perhaps never. But she could _feel_ them. She could hear them from him, and even though she was still Kara Thrace, the cancer, the women who destroyed everyone she loved, Lee hadn't run yet, hadn't been driven away, and that had to be worth something.

He drew her attention back to the present, kissing the top of her head. "As soon as we get back to _Pegasus_ and the fleet, I'll set up a meeting with the Admiral and Roslin to present the new mission specs. We'll get approval, I promise."

And then Kara could keep _her_ promise, to Sam, to the Resistance. She remembered the way Sam had kissed her, drawn teeth over her abdomen, the way he'd _looked_ at her, and bit her lip. "Lee, I gave him one of my tags before I left Caprica. He might think that means something, that he and I are …"

"Are you?" To her amazement, Lee's gaze held no judgment.

"I don't know," Kara admitted. "I don't know how much of it is wanting to get back to him and keep my word and how much is something else."

"Well, you'll have to decide that," he said evenly. "And whatever choice you make, it's okay. I want you to be happy."

She blinked, now not bothering to conceal her shock. She didn't doubt what he was saying, but it seemed such a far cry from what had happened after Colonial Day, when he'd confronted her in as close to a jealous rage as she'd ever seen from him, claiming that she "owed" him something.

Playfully Kara poked him. "Who are you and what have you done with Lee Adama?"

He elbowed her back. "What, you'd rather I hit you again and say you can't look at anybody else ever again because you belong to me?"

"The day I say I belong to someone I'll pick up my sidearm and _beg_ you to shoot me," Kara vowed with a snort.

Lee chuckled. "That's the Starbuck I know."

She smiled, but another image was intruding, an image that had occupied her thoughts and haunted her dreams far too often lately. Kara had prayed for it not to be true, but she'd known that as the months advanced, the possibility grew more and more likely, more and more tangible, more and more certain to be fact.

"And if I get there and … he's …" She couldn't speak the word.

Lee kissed the top of her head.

"Then we'll pick up the pieces together."

***

Kara had no nightmares that night.

Of course, that might not have been saying very much, as she needed to be awake every couple hours to feed Will, but when the baby let her rest, she slept in Lee's arms, securely. Her head was tucked under his chin, their legs entwined, her hands over his, and while Sam still lurked at the edges of her mind, it helped immensely to know that the promise she'd made was no longer impossible. Kara had always preferred actions to words, to contemplation, and the actions she'd discussed with Lee had made her feel centered, certain. _Sure_.

She'd not felt that way in a long while. _Too_ long.

Lee was gone when she woke for the day, as she knew he would be. The early shifts were a bitch, especially when they were up all night with the baby, and there'd been many a morning when Kara had had to poke him awake after he'd slept through the alarm. Last night hadn't been particularly bad, but Lee still looked bleary-eyed when he kissed her goodbye (a silly, romantic gesture he always insisted upon). At least he'd remembered to brush his teeth and shave, unlike one memorable occasion she could think of.

After hitting the mess for breakfast, and nursing in the hidden alcove of a deserted corridor, Kara headed to the rec room with her son. She had the vague idea that she might try to find Gaeta and talk to him about Lee's idea, if he wasn't on duty, but more than that, Kara needed adult interaction. Interaction with somebody who could use forms of communication other than crying and burping.

Gaeta wasn't there when she arrived, but Kara sat down anyway to observe a low-energy card game being played by Racetrack and a few of the other Raptor pilots. Will was sleeping on her shoulder, and she figured she probably had at least a half hour. He tended to go right out of it once he had a full stomach.

It felt good just to be there, laughing and joking with the others, even though doing so made her realize just how out of the loop the last month had put her. The main topic of serious conversation seemed to be Scar, and the different methods he (everyone called it a he) employed to kill pilots. She felt very slightly guilty at this, but pushed it away.

Kara was in the midst of a heated discussion with Duck when booted feet stomped into the room. "Come on, in two-on-two engagements Cylon raiders like to isolate individual Vipers and then gang up on one, you know that!" she was saying as a presence stepped up beside her.

"Which is exactly what happened to Jo-Jo twenty minutes ago," Kat cut in smoothly from Kara's elbow. She was still dressed in her flight suit, her hair wild and frizzed from her helmet, and she looked _pissed_.

"Frak me," Duck muttered, leaning back in his chair. "Was it Scar?"

Kat nodded grimly. "Bastard smoked Jo-Jo and jumped away in less than fifteen seconds before his wingman could get a shot off."

Kara sighed. Another pilot gone, somebody else she hadn't known, but by the looks on the faces around her, someone who'd been quite popular. Someone else she wasn't able to protect or defend. In her mind she could almost _hear_ Lee telling her to stop it, that she shouldn't think this way, but it was difficult not to. Almost impossible when Kat was looking down at her, accusingly, like Kara was the one to put a gun to Jo-Jo's head.

"And where were you?" Kat snapped at her.

She shifted Will to her other shoulder. "What?"

"'Cause see, usually, the flight schedule would've had _you_ on that patrol, flying his lead. But I didn't see you out there this morning. Too busy wet nursing the future of the fleet, huh?"

"What exactly are you trying to say, Lieutenant?" Kara bit off icily. The others were silent, their heads swiveling from her to Kat like they were at a pyramid game.

"What I'm trying to say, _Captain_ , is that maybe if you weren't so wrapped up playing house with Apollo, Jo-Jo would have still been here." Kat's words were a hiss, meant as bullets were to pierce, to wound, to hurt.

Two days prior, Kara might have let them. She might have obsessed over them, in the observation deck where she could watch Vipers going out, in her new quarters after Will had been put to bed and she had nothing except the water to console her. She _knew_ she should still be flying, and understood that it was nothing but her own choices which had put her where she was. She could've felt useless and stupid, a pilot without purpose, a soldier without a war to fight.

But there was Sam. And the fact that she was letting Lee help her, that she was going to come up with another plan — a plan that would _work_ — overshadowed any perceived uselessness. Kara still had the same purpose as everyone else. She still wanted to save lives. She knew she could do it.

And she was _sick_ of Kat kicking her around for her decisions.

Kara fixed dark eyes on the other pilot. "Racetrack, would you take Will for me?" At Maggie's nod, she passed her son over. "And give us the room. All of you."

Duck and the rest of the pilots shuffled to their feet, abandoning their card game, and reluctantly headed out. They kept glancing over their shoulders as they went, apparently hopeful that the fireworks might start before the room was clear, but Kara kept her mouth firmly closed until the last boot had passed over the threshold.

Then she rose, slowly, never breaking eye contact as she drew herself up to her full height. Kara was pleased that this put her an inch or two above Kat. "What is it with you, Katraine?" she growled. "Ever since I got back you've been on my ass like a bad rash."

"You know, frakking your superior is bad enough." Kat wasn't backing down. "But when he knocks you up with his kid, and you're out of rotation for six months 'cause you've decided you want to go be a mommy?"

Anger flared within her, hot and potent. "Snake was in my place because I am in no condition to fly right now. And I know that. You see, unlike you, I don't take a bunch of pills and then climb into my cockpit so wired that I can't land the frakkin' ship."

The other flushed deep red, and Kara's veins surged with vindictive pleasure. Clearly, the memory of her experimentation with stims still haunted and chagrined the young woman.

"Starbuck, you're an embarrassment," Kat spat. "You used to be the hottest stick on the fleet. Now, you're just a useless broodmare that sends other people out to get killed."

Kara's fist clenched, automatically.

"What're you gonna do, hmm?" taunted Kat. "What are you gonna do, you gonna hit me, Starbuck?"

"It scares you, doesn't it?" Kara smiled, bared her teeth.

"Actually, no!"

"You're afraid most of the time, Kat." She moved closer, closer, until they were almost nose-to-nose. "You're afraid you'll end up like those pictures on the memorial wall, some little, forgotten picture that nobody really remembers. You see, that's why you're riding my ass so hard. So no one will notice that Scar scares the living _crap_ out of you."

The punch connected with her face, hard, uncompromising, and Kara snapped back. Kat was breathing hard, her fist still curled at her side, the fire in her eyes diminished but not completely gone. The best pilots never lost it, never lost the edge that allowed them to be the best. Katraine might not have lost hers, but neither had Kara, and the latter almost felt relieved to taste blood in her mouth, to feel it dripping from her cut lip. She dragged her fingers across it, still grinning.

"Truth stings, doesn't it?"

Kat didn't reply, merely glancing toward the hatch while deeper red coloured her cheeks.

The reason soon became evident. Kara turned just in time to hear a familiar voice bark out a command for attention, and when she straightened up Lee stood framed by the hatch, cradling Will in one arm and a packet of file folders in the other.

He leveled his CAG gaze at them, the one against which few were willing to stand. "What's going on?"

"Just a little tactical discussion, sir." An understatement, perhaps, but Kara wasn't willing to have him know what the "discussion" had really involved. He'd just get all protective, and she neither needed nor wanted that from him right now. She could take care of herself, dammit.

Lee's eyes went from Kat's mussed hair to Kara's cut lip, taking in the evidence. "Must have been lively," he muttered, before shifting his son and consulting one of the folders. "Right, Kat, you're with me. I want you flying my wing out by the big spud."

"Sir, I —" Kat began, but was quelled by the look on her superior's face.

 _Don't want to fly with somebody you were just making fun of, huh?_ Kara almost snickered at the thought. She knew it wouldn't do any good, though, so she settled for licking the blood off her lip, slowly, the coppery taste proof of her ability to defend herself.

"I've got a hunch a couple of Raiders are gonna try and sneak through that sector," Lee told them. "So I want one of my heaviest hitters with me to greet 'em. Skids up in forty minutes."

Kat muttered something inaudible and pushed past him out the hatch, barely glancing at either Lee or Will. Kara ground her teeth together, annoyance flaring at the memory of how the other had acted when Will had just been born, how she'd been happy and excited like the other pilots. Frakkin' hypocrite. And Kat was scared. She _was_.

"Kara, are you okay?" Lee asked.

"Fine," she said, and meant it. "She just got lippy with me about the kid, that's all. Seems to think it's her job to keep me on a leash or something."

"Look, don't worry about Kat." He slid Will into her arms and she immediately boosted the infant onto her shoulder. "I can talk to her if you'd like."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Gods, no. I don't need you fighting my damned battles, Lee."

"All right." Lee sighed, folding and unfolding and rumpling the stack of folders. "Well. I guess I'll see you when we land, then."

Now she swallowed, a sudden lump clenching her throat, the desire to be out there and protecting him back in full force. Her hand found Will's back and she massaged, slow circles, smiling slightly when the infant snorted and turned his head in his sleep. "Lee?" Kara said softly.

He turned from where he'd been about to go through the hatch. "Yeah?"

She crossed the room in quick strides, not breathing again until she had wrapped one arm around him and kissed him gently. "Watch yourself out there. I'm not on your wing to save your ass, Apollo."

"I know." Lee squeezed her in return, kissed up her neck, rested his cheek against the top of Will's head for a long moment. "You won't get rid of me that easily."

Kara smirked, her expression firm in order to conceal her true thoughts.

"Good."

***

 _"Hey, Starbuck!" Kat stood on the rec room's table, her feet planted, all vim and vinegar. "My cup runneth dry. Seems I recall someone boasting she'd be up in the air soon kicking my ass!"_

The eyes of everyone in the room had been on her, she had _felt_ them, and it'd been hard to tell whether they were hoping for a fight or a snappy comeback or something different entirely. Adrenaline always ran high after a successful mission, and this time hadn't been any different. Kara had experienced a certain amount of wounded pride upon hearing that Lee let Kat take out Scar, thus ensuring that ownership of the Top Gun mug would transfer from Starbuck to Katraine. But mostly, she was just glad they'd both made it back alive.

Now, in the gym, sparring with Helo, Kara wasn't ashamed to admit that to herself.

"I could have done it, you know," she told her friend as he swung at her, his boxing gloves _thock-thocking_ against the targets on her palms. "If I'd been up in the air I could've taken out Scar. Head-on pass, straight for him. Wouldn't have bothered leading him through the needle like Lee did."

"Sometimes we need to realize that not every battle is ours to fight," Karl said gently. "You've gotta lean on your wingman, Kara. That's why he's there."

She sighed, hearing in his words both what they were discussing and what they were not. In the rec room, with everyone looking, Lee had backed her up yet again.

 _Kara held up a bottle, once the vessel for fine Caprican wine and now merely an empty container in which to store the Chief's hooch. She stood in front of Kat, commanding attention, on her mind the faces of those who were present and those who could not be. "To BB," she started. "Jo-Jo. Riley. Beano. Dipper. Flattop. Chuckles. Jolly. Crashdown." Her voice faltered, but she swallowed and went on. "Sheppard. Dash. Flyboy. Stepchild. Puppet. Fireball."_

The clench was back, had returned inexorably, as she looked out at the crowd. It was much larger than usual, with Viper and Raptor pilots both, all gathered to celebrate the hard-earned victory. Even the Old Man and Tigh were there, and Will was nestled securely in his grandfather's arms. This was for the future, all of it for the future, but with so many faces missing, it was not difficult to believe that the cost hadn't been worth the benefit. So many lives, abruptly and unfairly ended …

"To all of 'em," spoke up a quiet voice from the back, and Kara turned to see Lee, raising his own glass, filling in for her, picking up where she had left off. They made eye contact for the briefest of moments, Kara trying to convey her gratitude with one gaze.

"So say we all," Adama said firmly, and the room echoed with murmurs of those same words.

"So say we all," Kara whispered. She whispered it to Zak, quietly in her own mind.

Kara swung at Helo, over the top of his head as he ducked, and raised her hands in front of her face again. "Probably would've died if I'd been up there anyway," she confessed. "The bastard was too good. Couple months ago, I wouldn't have even thought about that. Would've just gone for the glory, hoping I could pull it out of the fire somehow."

"What changed your mind?" Helo asked. The knowing gaze in his eyes told her he already understood, but he wanted her to say it.

"Will," Kara said softly, and turned to smile at her son, who was strapped into his infant seat on the floor next to them, asleep. "Lee said something about —" She dodged to block Karl's punch. "About wanting to see him grow up, thinking he's the future. Sounds kind of corny but …" Another _thock_ as his glove connected. "I started thinking. I want the kid to have two parents. Not just one who's always run off their feet and pissed about it. Nobody deserves that."

"I get that," her friend nodded.

"And there's Anders." She swung out again. "Can't get Sam out of my head. Can't get over this insane hope that maybe he's alive."

"You've got something to live for now," Helo replied. "Not just die for."

How true that was, Kara thought. And as she whacked Karl on the side of the head, dodged him again, tackled him playfully to the ground and smiled and laughed along with him, she realized she had to admit something else.

Living felt pretty good.


	32. Chapter 32

"Is this okay?"

She smiled, let her eyes slide closed, savoured the feel of him and the scent of him and _gods_ , yes, _there_ — pressure that drove everything from her mind, everything but how good it felt —

"Just tell me, all right, tell me if I'm hurting you —"

Kara's eyes sprang open, quickly rolling skyward. "For frak's sake, yes, it's _fine_. If it wasn't I'd have you in a headlock by now!"

Lee chuckled, but the concern in his gaze hadn't eased. "Cottle told us to be careful, that's all."

"Yeah, but there's _careful_ and there's _you frak like my grandmother_ , Lee," Kara snapped, irritated now. "The kid won't sleep forever and I am _not_ living through the next eighteen years without getting laid, so come on!"

He let out a slow breath, dipping back down to suck at her again, massaging with his palm. "All right, um, I'm just going to bring my finger in here and push it a bit, just against your —"

" _Lee!_ " She barely restrained herself from shouting.

Lee jerked back as though she'd burned him. "Gods, sorry, did I —"

"Lose the play-by-play!" Kara hissed.

"Sorry," he sighed.

"Look, this is stupid," she muttered, boosting herself up on her elbows to face him. "And it would be a hell of a lot simpler if you let me work on you first and _then_ get to the other stuff, you know."

"Kara, I already told you —"

"I know, I know, you're not doing this without me," interrupted Kara. "Neither am I. I'll get you ready and then we'll do it, okay?"

Lee paused for a moment, and she knew he was weighing his insistence that this be about both of them against the fact that he hadn't gotten off in almost three months. She glanced down and smirked; he'd been half-hard even before they started and was all the way there now, the head of him stretched shiny by arousal. Her hands ached to touch it, to wrap around him, but she waited.

"All right. Okay." His breath panted out, little gasps, as he watched her looking at him. "As long as you're sure."

Kara wasn't even going to dignify _that_ with a response.

Instead she pushed him onto his back, bent down, licked up the length of him from root to tip.

 _This_ was what a vacation should be.

There was no comparison to the one they'd taken before Will was born. Now, she was back on duty, so the downtime had to be sandwiched around double shifts and dropping Will at the ship's childcare center and pumping milk for him and a dozen other incidentals. That wasn't even counting Lee's schedule. In some ways none of it mattered to her — she was back in the air, making a difference, which filled her with a feeling of contentment long-dormant — but it was a difficult life, as she had known it would be when she made her choices. This vacation on _Cloud Nine_ was less a vacation than it was short R &R, and Kara planned to savour every minute of it. Especially since Helo was also aboard, and had promised to take Will for a few hours so she and Lee could share dinner in _Cloud Nine_ 's bar.

The infant was asleep now, in the makeshift travel crib they'd borrowed. Kara knew that wouldn't last, so she was trying to jam in as much as she could now that Cottle had given her full clearance to resume intimate activities. Lee had so far proven nervous and recalcitrant, but she was determined to turn him around to her way of thinking. Using _all_ the weapons in her arsenal if necessary.

Now she took him into her mouth, first just the tip, sucking languidly and grinning around his length when his eyes squeezed shut at the pressure. It had been a while, _gods_ it had been a while, and Kara decided not to waste any more time. The increased gag reflex had thankfully quieted with the end of her pregnancy, so she swallowed his cock right to the hilt, let him touch the back of her throat. Lee was biting his lip, probably struggling not to make noise. _Good frakking luck_ , she thought.

Kara loved this, loved the way he tasted and the way he filled her mouth. She loved how she could make him fly apart.

Her hand drifted to his thigh, lightly stroking, touching, massaging the inside, moving higher until she could cup him, and simultaneously Kara sucked his length, hollowing her cheeks as much as she could, daring him with her eyes to keep quiet. One quick squeeze of his balls told her he was almost there, as they tightened and drew upwards.

That was it for Lee's silence, and he groaned out her name again, again, as Kara slid her mouth back, dragging teeth lightly as she withdrew. Time for the main event, and despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach, she wasn't letting him back out this time. Nor would she even consider stopping.

She reached for his arms and he gave her the support she needed, carefully lowering down, down, until he just brushed her entrance, both their breaths hitching sharply at the contact. It hurt a little bit, but not very much, so Kara took him deeper, impaling herself slowly on his cock, and then it hurt more, and against her will she winced and hissed.

Lee stilled immediately, his grip tightening on her arms. "Hey, you okay?"

Kara swore under her breath. "Yeah, just — dry, that's all. Tight."

"Here —" He made to sit up, and, pinned by her glare, paused. "Relax, Kara, all right? I'm just going to see if I can make this a little easier on you."

She gritted her teeth but nodded, giving him silent permission to proceed with whatever he had in mind. Lee pulled himself forward and moved to a sitting position, locking his legs around her so that she was sitting in his lap, snaking one arm behind her to stroke gently down her back. His other hand found her abdomen, caressed it, traced slow circles around her navel, while his lips pressed to her mouth and his tongue licked out to meet hers.

"You're still frakking me before we go to dinner," Kara growled when they paused for breath.

"Damn straight." He kept tracing, around and around, spreading heat from his touch. "Just relax. We'll do this, I promise, but you have to be ready."

He was probably right, though she didn't want to admit it. Kara kept her focus on him, his mouth, his proximity, the way he smelled (his scent had lost none of its appeal), how his fingers were touching her, the warmth of his chest, his erection trapped between them. The heat spread, pooling lower, and her breath stuttered out in short huffs and at _that_ moment Lee's finger trailed down, past blonde curls, massaging her, and gods — _gods_ —

"Yeah — gods, frak, _yeah_ —" The words sprang from her before she could stop them, and Kara arched against him; he'd found her clit and it was _glorious_. "Godsdammit, I won't — _right_ there — won't last — ahh, _Leeeeeee_ —"

"Now who's got no stamina?" he snickered, a wry smile on his face.

Part of her brain contemplated punching him, but was quickly overruled by the blood rushing downwards.

His ministrations had done the trick, though, and when Lee slipped that nimble finger inside her, softly, softly, she was wet and ready. _More_ than ready.

"Come on," Kara whispered, and it was her turn to reach down, grasping and tugging his cock with unmistakable intent. "And if you ask me if it's okay I swear to gods I will —"

"Shh." Lee silenced her with his palm pressed to her lips, pressed there so she could taste herself on him, and she slid her tongue over his skin, nicked teeth along his thumb, listened to the gasping breaths she was drawing from him. _Now_ pounded in her veins.

Second time was the charm. Well, perhaps not completely — it still stung, very slightly, as he entered her — but Lee went slowly, carefully, his hands now cupping her bottom to guard against sudden motions, until he was buried to the hilt and she felt only a prickle, parts being stretched where they had recently healed. He waited, letting her get used to the sensations, an incredible feat of self-control on his part considering how close they both were. But then, when had Lee ever _not_ been a master of self-control?

Kara was proud to be the only one able to make him lose it.

She took a slow breath, calming herself, a grin spreading over her face, and began rocking against him. Matching her smile with one of his own, Lee skimmed his palms up her sides and pulled her closer, not altering the slow pace of his thrusts. Ordinarily she might have complained — Kara liked it fast, and he'd always been able to keep up with her, which she liked even more — but there was something oddly satisfying about this pace. She leaned forward, breathed in again, let him fill her nostrils ( _yes yes gods yes_ ), kissed him, over and over until he moaned softly, apparently fighting for control.

Then there was another sound, a sound that did not come from either of them but from Will, who they'd both believed to be asleep. The noise was a soft whimper, the kind that could have simply come from some exciting infant dream — or that could herald the battle cry of a hungry baby. Kara mouthed a silent but sincere " _frak_ " and pressed her index finger to Lee's lips, praying that he'd see this through, that their son wouldn't awaken _just yet_ , and most fervently, that her breasts did not decide milk was needed. It was not, and at this point would be horribly messy.

They stayed stalk-still for a full minute, their eyes on the crib as Will stretched his legs, frowned heavily, tossed his head from side to side … and then, finally, seemed to relax again. Kara could see his eyes fluttering beneath their lids, though, and she knew she didn't have long.

"Damn, we've gotta finish," she muttered, and redoubled her efforts, riding Lee harder, ignoring the answering sting from her insides. All that mattered now was getting off, stoking the fire.

"Won't be — won't be a — problem," Lee grunted, and was quite correct: a moment later he bucked up, arched, whispered her name, and Kara felt herself filling with a different warmth, the warmth of his climax.

Intellectually she understood; they _did_ need to end this encounter before the kid woke up, and even Lee's vaunted self-control had limits. She could tell he'd been holding on for a long while as it was. But none of that placated her, nor did the delicious way he groaned each time he pulsed inside her.

Before Kara could even register a complaint, though, Lee's mouth was on hers, insistent and sure, as he started fingering her again. The idea of protesting flew out of her brain, pushed away by the heat flaring in her stomach. _Lords_ he was good with his hands. He drew her closer, cupping the back of her head, pressing her breasts into his chest and sending pinpricks of sparks spreading from that touch. Lee ground down once — twice — quick concentric circles with his thumb — and Kara tumbled over the edge, breaking the kiss and burying her face in his neck, inhaling deeply, his name on her tongue while she quaked pleasantly.

When she could speak again and he'd gone soft inside her, Kara chuckled as she moved to lie down. "Nice save."

Lee just embraced her in response, a low laugh resonating in his chest. Apart from liking it slow, he also seemed to enjoy cuddling after sex, an act that Kara had always dismissed as disgustingly romantic. But she let him do it now, because she felt good and sated and because it would only be for a few minutes — they needed to start getting ready for dinner soon. And she liked being with him like this, skin to skin again, but with much less baggage than before. She palmed his chest, drifting up, down, while he traced slow patterns on her arm.

They might have fallen asleep like that, entwined, had Will not woken minutes later and cried for certain this time, hungry and wet. Lee insisted on changing him and bringing him to Kara, as usual, and she lay contentedly on the bed feeding her son and watching Lee dress in a pair of plain pants and a white and blue striped shirt.

"Weird to see you in civvies, Apollo," Kara commented with a grin.

"Think it looks good on me?" Jokingly he struck a pose, and she couldn't help laughing.

"No, I think you look frakkin' deranged, actually."

Lee chuckled along with her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks. "Yeah, you're probably right. Going without the uniform is just …"

"Bizarre?" she filled in.

"A little."

"That's because you can't ever take the stick out of your ass long enough to stop being the CAG," said Kara with relish, pushing her leg out to shove at him.

"Ha ha." Lee rolled his eyes and pinched her foot, then abruptly became serious. "Look, you want to come with me to Helo's room when I take Will? We could pretend to be outside and take a romantic walk in the pretend moonlight."

"Don't forget, I'm pretend-allergic to the pretend grass," she wisecracked. "Nah, it's okay. We're running late now, just go ahead and make sure they save our table. I've gotta take a shower anyway, clean up."

"Clean up?" His brow furrowed. "Who are you and what have you done with Kara Thrace?"

"Remember what happened the last time you joked about my hygiene?" Kara arched an eyebrow.

Lee shuddered involuntarily. "Please, let's not go there. I'd like to _keep_ my appetite for tonight, thanks."

"At least the part that hasn't already been satisfied," she snickered. "And hey, if you buy me dinner tonight and I like it, you might just get lucky again, you big stud."

"Now _that's_ what I call a vacation," Lee winked, and he bent to kiss her toes one by one.

***

An hour later found Kara alone in their room, shimmying into a tight black number that she admitted (if only to herself) would probably have fit her far better _before_ her pregnancy. The shirt was fine, though it gave her far more assets in the area of cleavage than Kara personally thought she possessed. Given Lee's proclivities, however, she didn't think that would be a problem, and was in fact banking on drawing a look from him similar to the one he'd worn on Colonial Day. This _was_ the same bar on _Cloud Nine_ , after all.

No: the trouble was the pants. They'd gone up over her legs okay, but had just barely fitted the rest of the way, and now she had no idea how she was going to work the button and zipper without surgically grafting the outfit to her ass. No amount of tugging, yanking, pulling or cursing would get them to close. She'd dropped much of her pregnancy weight, due partly to breastfeeding and mostly to the punishing exercise regime she set herself, but the last five or ten pounds was proving stubborn, and evidently five or ten pounds made a hell of a difference when you were talking tight, black clothing.

 _Frak._

Kara was in the midst of hunting for an elastic band, a paper clip, _anything_ she could use to make the pants meet in the middle, when the phone near the door trilled.

She paused, momentarily startled. _What the hell? Practically nobody knows we're here except the Admiral and Helo. If it's Lee calling to say he can't get our table I'm gonna rip him a new one, godsdammit._

Kara lifted the phone from the receiver, still fighting with her pants. "Kara Thrace here."

 _Shit, what if it_ is _Helo? What if something's wrong with Will? Dammit, dammit, dammit._

"Captain." The quiet, determined voice of Bill Adama flowed into her ear. "I hate to drag you and Lee away from your R&R, but we have a situation developing over there that we could use your help with."

"Of course, sir," Kara said equitably, restraining a sigh as she sensed her dinner plans swirling down the drain. "I'll have to track him down, but I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle."

"He's not with you?" The Admiral sounded surprised.

"No, sir, he's not." She wondered why he'd ask. "He left to take Will over to Karl Agathon's room and then to get us a table at the bar. We were supposed to have dinner there tonight, but we can cancel, it's no problem."

Dead silence on the other end of the line.

"Sir?"

When Adama next spoke, his voice was filled with new layers of worry. "About a half hour ago we received a report that a group of four men and one woman have taken over the bar. They've sealed off the room using the decompression doors and everyone in the bar is a hostage."

Ice shot through her veins. _Maybe he stayed to talk to Helo. Maybe Will started crying and he had to comfort him and didn't get there yet. Maybe he's still near the fountain because he thinks I'm going to meet him there after all. Maybe he got there after the door was closed._

 _Lords, please._

"Understood, sir," Kara said out loud. Cleared her throat. "I'll contact Gunny and a few of the other Marines, see if we can't get a plan going. Any info on the perpetrators?"

"Their leader seems to be a woman named Sesha Abinell," the Admiral began, and Kara scrambled for a pad of paper and a pencil to take notes. "Her husband was Ray Abinell, and he died on the _Greenleaf Freighter_ when the Cylons attacked it ten weeks ago."

"What does she want?" Kara scribbled frantically.

"She's asking that we release Sharon Valerii to her and her companions, claiming that we are colluding with the Cylons, and that it cannot be allowed to continue. Abinell's given us a two-hour deadline. Then she'll start executing hostages. So we need to act fast."

"Yes, sir." Worry rose within her again, but she took a breath, pushed it aside. "We'll set up a communications access point outside the bar and wait for additional instructions."

"Good." Another pause. "And Kara?"

"Sir?"

"How likely do you believe it is that Lee is in that bar?" This was said quietly, as though Adama didn't want anybody else around him to hear.

Of course, that was the exact thought lurking in her own mind. She wished she knew. She wished she'd asked Lee to wait while she showered, and that they had taken Will to Helo together. She wished she had agreed to Lee's idea of a moonlit walk, lame as it had sounded at the time. She wished she could answer the Admiral's question with absolute certainty. She wished she could burst out laughing and say she'd been kidding, that Lee was standing right next to her, that they'd go and deal with this together.

But she couldn't.

"I … I'm not entirely sure, sir. We had reservations and he was going to go get us a good table, and I would meet him there. I presume he got there, but I don't know for certain."

Adama answered with another question. "Is my grandson being taken care of?"

 _That_ Kara could answer with confidence. "Yes. Helo's got him, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind keeping him until — until the crisis is resolved."

"Good. You have your orders."

Kara's eyes slid shut again in prayer, and she nodded.

***

The marbled floor dug into her knees, biting through the fabric of the pants that she had, with great difficulty and the help of a rubber band, finally managed to fasten. Kara's focus was no longer on clothing, however. She had reverted to examining her current situation, and Lee's potential situation, through a soldier's trained eye. It was the only way she could think of it without feeling prickles of fear.

The presence of the Marines helped. Burrel, nicknamed Gunny, and the others were gathered around the communications post, listening with her as the Admiral gave them the latest situation report.

" _I've got two strike teams inbound to you_ ," Adama was saying. " _ETA ten minutes._ "

"We'll have plenty of firepower, so that's good," Kara told him. "But I'm concerned with limited access points."

There was a series of clicks on the other end of the line, and then the Admiral's voice requesting a connection with Abinell. Kara listened intently.

" _We're losing oxygen_ ," an unfamiliar voice said. It was strangely gruff, for a woman's, but also authoritative and sure. It held no fear. " _If it's not restored, the hostages die_."

" _Then you'll all die_ ," the Admiral replied. " _Because this is over_."

" _Not until the Cylon's dead_ ," Abinell insisted. " _I'm willing to die to see this through. You willing to risk your son's life?_ "

Kara sucked in a shocked breath. She'd known, she'd suspected … but hearing it like that … "Son of a bitch," she whispered.

Adama didn't say a word, and Abinell seized the opening. " _Suddenly you're listening._ "

" _Godsdammit, give her what she wants! Give her the Cylon!_ " shrieked a voice in the background that sounded like Ellen Tigh's.

Kara forced herself to think. Abinell had the hostages, the weapons, and the tactical advantage. But so far, it didn't seem as though any of the hostages were hurt in any way. They just needed oxygen, and Abinell and her cronies required it too. Obviously, they thought the Admiral was trying to starve them out. Adama wouldn't do any such thing, though, and he did not have the power to take that action remotely in any case. So either they'd nicked a line with the gunfire, or someone on the inside was sending a signal, giving them an opening.

 _Lee? Please let it be Lee._

"I need you to check something," Kara said, motioning to Burrel. Quickly, she explained her theory, and he bustled off to look at the settings.

" _You said this was about us being played by the Cylons_ ," Adama was telling Abinell. " _But it isn't. It's about the loss of your husband, and I understand that. It's about you wanting to strike back, and I understand that too. But we've all lost people that we care about. And we learn to live with it._ "

Kara's teeth sunk deeply into her bottom lip. In a couple hours, if this wasn't resolved, that might be her. _She_ might suddenly need to learn to exist without Lee, to raise Lee's son without his help. Intellectually that had always been a possibility, and she liked to believe that they'd both known that going in. However, she understood that the reality was entirely different. Lee had already said that he just wanted her to be happy, that he'd let her go if that was what it took. But she doubted that his concept of letting her go extended to her death. And she knew — _knew_ — that she couldn't go through this twice. She'd already lost Zak. She couldn't, _wouldn't_ , lose his brother too.

Now, Lee needed her again. She wouldn't fail him the way she'd failed his brother. She wouldn't sit on the sidelines like she'd done when Scar had been flying. This time she would help him, no matter what it took.

Because she could not consider the alternative. She could not learn to live with this.

Presently Burrel returned, shaking his head. Immediately Kara contacted the Admiral.

" _Sitrep_ ," Adama barked.

"I had someone double check the oxygen feed in there," she told him. "There's nothing wrong with the air."

" _Could be a glitch_ ," he suggested.

"Or maybe someone screwed with one of the carbon dioxide sensors in the bar." Kara layered her tone with meaning.

The Admiral got it, immediately. " _Lee. Why?_ "

"Maybe he's giving us an opening. If I can get someone inside, get a clear idea of what we're dealing with —"

" _Kara, this is a recon mission_ ," said Adama, sternly. " _Get someone to volunteer. Then you assess the situation and get the hell out of there. Do you understand?_ "

Recon only. Well, at least she'd be able to check on Lee, make sure he was okay. "Yes, sir."

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a man in a yellow uniform hurrying down the hall, black cap on his head, carrying a toolbox. Kara cut the connection with _Galactica_ and turned to the maintenance guy.

"I'm here to repair the O2 line," he said.

She allowed herself a grin, simultaneously reaching over for the cap, plunking it on her own head. The Marines stared.

"Captain, what are you doing?" Burrel asked.

Kara took a deep breath.

"Volunteering."


	33. Chapter 33

Of all the situations Lee had expected to be in that night, this was not one of them.

His evening had been simple in his mind. Share a quiet dinner with Kara, thanks in no small part to Helo's offer to babysit Will; take her on a walk in the moonlight; collect their son; and return to their room, where hopefully bedroom activities that did not involve sleeping would take place. He was greatly encouraged by their earlier attempt — it hadn't seemed to hurt her too much beyond the initial issues — and he doubted he'd have a problem convincing Kara to go in for more of the same.

Unfortunately, the night hadn't worked out as planned. In fact, things had gone as far as possible in the other direction.

First, there'd been a near-confrontation with Billy Keikeya, who'd all but accused Dee of cheating on him with Lee, despite the latter's attempts to explain that he just walked over to have a friendly chat with her while waiting for Kara. Evidently Billy had proposed earlier in the day and Dee had said no, which added to the young man's sense of humiliation. Lee could, truthfully, see both sides of the issue. From talking to Dee, and his own experience, he understood why she might not be ready to make a firm commitment yet, why that concept was scary. She also mentioned how much she'd appreciated his honesty towards her about his love for Kara, and how he had spurred her on to be equally honest both with herself and with Billy. Dee had, to her credit, never once attempted to come between Lee and Kara once he had made his own feelings clear, and she continued to treat Kara with warmth and kindness. Lee still possessed an abiding affection for Dee — she was a great friend, and a good ally — and he sympathized with her, with how she carried a torch for him despite the fact that they couldn't be together. Dee had smiled at this, and told him not to worry. That was her problem, not his, and he should just be happy with Kara.

Billy, meanwhile, was having to cope with the not-insignificant sting of rejection, and Lee felt badly for him too. He didn't know Keikeya very well — just that he was the president's assistant, and that he and Dee had been something of an item since the original Cylon attacks almost a year ago — but by all accounts the man was shy, quiet, and not very sure of himself. Proposing to Dee must have required a hell of a lot of courage, and then to be let down like that … it was not difficult to comprehend why Billy might jump to conclusions, even if those conclusions happened to be the wrong ones. Both Lee and Dee had tried to assure Billy that they were merely friends, Lee even bringing up Kara and Will in an attempt to prove that he himself was not unattached. But Billy wouldn't even look at Lee, and eventually Lee decided to leave them alone together to talk it out.

Unfortunately, his luck hadn't improved at the bar, where he'd found himself sitting next to one of his least favourite people in the universe: Ellen Tigh. Thankfully he wasn't within groping distance (Lee still shuddered to think of that one dinner party months ago, when he'd spent most of the evening with Ellen's foot in his crotch), but in spite of that, she really wasn't much easier to take. She kept shooting him significant looks and implying that his encounter with Dee was more than just a friendly chat. Lee was torn between hoping Kara would show up as soon as possible, so he could kiss her in front of Ellen and prove a point, and praying that she _wouldn't_ arrive for a few minutes yet, because if she caught him with Ellen, she'd tease him mercilessly. He'd never hear the end of it.

At the moment, though, Lee was glad Kara had been delayed. Because everything had changed.

Everything had changed when a woman named Sesha Abinell had taken over the bar, with the help of three henchmen. All were armed. Lee had tried to do what he could to diffuse the situation, dragging Ellen to the washroom and using the dry ice from her drink to trip the carbon dioxide sensors in the lounge. He'd hoped that he could then remain hidden, working without the terrorists' knowledge to sabotage their plans and perhaps communicate with someone outside. But Ellen had panicked and given herself up as a hostage, and his backup plan to take a hostage of his own and negotiate failed when Abinell threatened to shoot Dee. Lee reluctantly backed down, knowing he couldn't sacrifice his friend's life.

Now he stood in a huddle with some of the other hostages, including Ellen, Billy and Dee. The only good news was that his little ruse with the dry ice had worked, and Abinell was now demanding a maintenance person enter and fix the air system. But along with that, she now realized who Lee was — or, more precisely, who his father was — and just what a valuable bargaining chip she'd managed to capture.

Lee hated being used like that. But at least (here he thanked the gods he didn't believe in) Kara wasn't involved. If they'd gone ahead as planned, if she'd been in the bar having dinner with him … he wasn't sure if he would've been able to deal with that. She'd be here, trapped with him. If the terrorists started throwing out bodies, Lee, as the Admiral's son, would be valued and would be kept alive.

Kara wouldn't.

For all of those reasons, it was much better that she wasn't there. He didn't want to worry about her. He didn't want to be scared for her. Certainly, _she_ was likely scared for _him_ , if she knew about the hostage-taking. But there was no reason for her to become directly involved. Dad probably had her strategizing, figuring out the best way to handle the situation. But she was outside, she was okay, and … in the worst-case scenario, if something happened to him, she could take care of their son.

As long as Lee knew those things, he figured he could cope with whatever else occurred.

The attention of everyone in the room was caught then by a swift hammering on the door. Abinell and Page leveled their guns, and Vinson activated the hatch control.

In the corridor beyond stood a young woman wearing the yellow coveralls and black cap of a maintenance worker, carrying a black and silver toolkit. Lee couldn't help but wonder whether this was an actual maintenance worker, or somebody sent in by the strategists to get a read on the situation. He hoped it was the latter. They might be doing okay right now, but there was no telling how long that would continue to be true. The terrorists had set a two-hour deadline before they started executing people, and he had no doubt that they'd keep their promise. Abinell had shown him that much earlier when she threatened to kill Dee.

Lee kept his eyes on the maintenance worker as Vinson ushered her inside and Abinell ordered the hatch closed and the worker searched. The woman was lean but stocky, possessed of a sturdy build, and she looked … familiar. It was almost impossible to tell exactly who she was, since she'd pulled her black cap far down over her eyes, but he definitely had the sense that he knew her somehow, from somewhere.

The worker's eyes shot to Abinell at the direction to close up. "You might not want to do that," the younger woman cautioned. "You're running out of air in here."

Lee barely restrained a jolt of surprise.

 _Oh, no._

Frak no.

It can't be. Please don't let it be —

The woman stood straight, arms held out from her sides as Page patted her down, and raised her head just enough that he could not mistake those eyes, that blonde hair pulled back into her trademark ponytail.

It was Kara.

Irrational anger seized him, and he had to look away. What the _frak_ was she thinking? What the frak was the Admiral thinking? It was all well and good to have her on the strategy team, to take advantage of her out-of-the-box thinking, but to send her in here, into a godsdamned _hostage_ -taking? Where nothing was assured, and danger was present in the smallest of motions and most innocent of gestures? His _one_ saving grace through this whole damn situation was that Kara hadn't been involved. She was supposed to be, but it didn't happen. He'd taken comfort in that, and had been incredibly grateful for it.

Now? Now he felt shattered, fear welling within him.

Page had moved on to Kara's toolbox, and he faced Abinell now. "Looks clean."

Abinell jerked her head toward the air filtration circuits. "Do your job," she snapped at Kara. To her henchmen, "Cover her."

Kara nonchalantly scooped up the toolbox and headed over to the far side of the room, her stride determined and sure. She didn't look at Lee, which he considered fortunate, because if she had, he was almost sure he would've let some of what he was feeling show in his face. The anger was draining swiftly from his body, and the fear replacing it. The part of him that was a career soldier, that looked at every situation from a military standpoint, was admonishing him, telling him that his love for her had no place in this arena. It was just like when they flew together: their relationship could not be a factor. That was even truer here, where such an attachment might be quickly seized upon and exploited if discovered. But Lee was more than just a soldier now. He loved Kara. He was the father of her son. Those qualities were just as much a part of him as his military experience. And right now, his ability to rein in his fear hinged entirely upon whether or not he looked at her.

He felt rather than saw Ellen turn slightly, glancing toward the corner where Kara was unpacking her tools. Ellen drew in a breath, and Lee suddenly realized that there was absolutely nothing preventing her from calling out in recognition, from trying to attract Kara's attention in some way. But surely, _surely_ , even Ellen Tigh couldn't be that stupid. Even she _had_ to understand the necessity that Kara keep undercover. All of their lives might depend on it.

Then again, Ellen had been dumb enough to wander out of the washroom and give herself to Abinell, despite Lee telling her not to. If she'd only stayed put … if they could have remained hidden …

"Wait a minute." Vinson's eyes slid from Ellen to Kara and back again, lines of suspicion forming on his face. "Turn around slowly. Check the box again," he directed Page.

Several things then happened at once, so quickly that Lee barely had time to blink. Kara paused, and slid back a slot in her toolkit — Page darted toward her, gun aimed — the glass above the bar shattered, because somehow Kara had guns too, and was firing — she threw herself to the floor amid the broken shards as Page returned fire — and he had the height advantage now, and was aiming for her head —

Lee didn't stop to think. He didn't even know what he was going to do, just that he had to get between Page and Kara, because Page wouldn't fire at her if Lee was in the way. He wouldn't risk hitting the prize hostage. And Lee couldn't just stand by and watch these clowns trying to hurt her. For frak's sake, she wasn't even supposed to _be_ here.

He launched himself to the right and threw his arms up in a defensive position, trying to provide as much of a shield as he could, using his forward momentum to keep him going, keep him vaulting towards Kara … all that mattered was getting to her, protecting her, even throwing himself over her if necessary … but suddenly something was tugging him back, _holding_ him back, and an instant after he realized that, Lee understood that white-hot pain was shooting down his arm, radiating from his right shoulder. Almost as if it had simply been waiting for him to notice it, the pain now doubled.

Lee glanced back to Kara, part of him hoping she could explain all this, but she now appeared utterly stricken. In fact, he couldn't remember ever seeing her look so frightened. The colour was draining from her face, and the gun in her right hand was smoking. He felt moisture on his chest, and somehow he was off-balance now — falling — and it seemed vitally important not to land on his shoulder but he couldn't control his descent —

Lee had never quite understood before how a person could black out just from pain. Even reading cases in his medical and survival classes back at the Academy hadn't convinced him that it was possible — pain was pain, but surely someone who was mentally strong would not succumb, and there had to be some kind of secondary injury involved if they did.

He now knew how wrong that assumption was.

His shoulder probably didn't hit the floor terribly hard, all told, but it _felt_ like he'd run headlong into a wall. Pain exploded through his chest, down his arm, in his back, like being stabbed over and over with flaming knives, like a whip striking him, like a vise crushing his body, and it was only tremendous effort and supreme mental discipline that kept him from screaming aloud. He _wanted_ to scream. Wanted to yell until his throat was raw, until he could drown out the pain, until someone, _anyone_ , could make it stop.

But it would not be drowned out. It would not be ignored. It consumed him, a fire burning and spreading, unchecked, through his synapses. Somebody needed to put it out. Someone needed to douse it. To staunch the redness blooming across the front of his shirt.

A single, all-consuming thought: _This is gonna get bad._

Then blackness reached for him, and he was dragged down, unwillingly.

***

Cold.

Everything was cold.

The wall behind her back. The radio receiver in her hand. The blood on her coveralls. The fear in her heart.

But if she looked at those things long enough — focused on concrete, real, tactile objects — perhaps she could escape. Perhaps she could run, could find a refuge from her own mind. It had never worked before, but Kara Thrace was nothing if not persistent. She would try again, and again, and again, because her focus was the last barrier she could erect between herself and insanity. And not the good kind of insanity where people laughed at your sheer brilliance. Not the good kind, where you saved your best friend from Cylon missiles by crashing your Viper into his and towing him back home. Not the good kind, where you rescued yourself from a desert moon after everybody had given up on you.

The bad kind, where you shot that same best friend, now lover, and were forced to watch helplessly as his features scrunched in agony when he fell.

She couldn't get it out of her head. Couldn't stop seeing the expression on his face, the sheer, physical hurt.

Kara had known, a millisecond before she acted, that she was doing the wrong thing. She'd known that she shouldn't pull the trigger, that Lee had seen one of the terrorists pointing a gun at her head and that, because Lee was _Lee_ , he would dive into the fray to protect her. But by the time she'd realized this, the message to _shoot_ had already long since gone from her brain to her finger, and her finger had tugged the trigger back all the way, and once the bullet left the gun she couldn't undo it. She couldn't stop the tiny piece of metal from rocketing forward, from finding its mark not in the terrorist she'd been aiming for, but in Lee. It had torn him apart, fresh, red arterial blood spurting from the wound, and the pain — his pain — she could _feel_ it stabbing her — and if Kara could feel it then it must have been a thousand times worse for him. She could only watch, frozen, as he crumpled. As his eyes screwed up. As he fought to keep from screaming.

She would have taken a hundred bullets. A thousand. She would have walked the entire distance around that desert moon on _two_ busted knees. She would have been shot in the abdomen again, again, and woken up in that Farm with absolutely no hope of escape. She would have done all of those things, and done them happily, and repeated them over and over, if it meant she could take back what had just happened. She wanted to wrap Lee in an embrace, to shield him from the pain and comfort him and make sure he never, ever hurt again.

But she couldn't.

And she shouldn't.

Now, she knew the truth.

Everything she had heard as a child — _everything_ — all of it — was fact.

The universe had tried to warn her, with Zak's death. It had tried to tell her that the safest thing to do was always, _always_ , to avoid becoming involved. Keep a professional distance. Refuse to engage on a personal level. She had destroyed the Adama family once by ignoring that warning. And like an idiot, she'd then proceeded to ignore it again, so the gods decided that they must mete out their punishment. Lee. Shot. Dying. Maybe dead already. _Probably_ dead already, if the amount of blood and its colour had been any indication. There was nothing left. She'd killed the younger brother, and now the older.

How long before she did something to the Admiral?

To _Will?_

A scream rose in her throat, and Kara clamped her lips shut to keep it from escaping.

Her child. Lee's child. But since she was destined to destroy everything she loved, surely it couldn't be long before he too was taken from her. She'd wanted to build a family with Lee, but she should've known it would be a futile effort. She should have just given him the kid, and run. For his own safety.

The trouble was that now, there weren't many places left in the universe to hide. So, as penance, she was forced to watch as all who drew close to her got burned, went down in flames, like planets that had ventured too close to their sun. Her gravity was so strong that she couldn't help but pull them in, and then devour them, like the mantis-fly of Aerilon.

"Captain Thrace, are you all right?"

The question came from the medic who was treating Burrel's wounded leg. Kara stared for a moment, incomprehension coursing through her.

 _No. I'm not all right._

I'm about as far from all right as it's possible to be.

"No physical injuries," she said softly, which was the truth.

"Glad to hear it. You'd best contact the Admiral; he'll want a full report."

Now her gaze fell to the radio in her hand.

She couldn't. She _couldn't_.

Telling Adama about her role in Zak's death had been hard enough. She couldn't face it again.

The button clicked on.

 _Galactica_ 's comms officer told her to wait a moment.

Then, the Admiral's voice grated forth, too loud in the confined space. " _We got a report of gunshots. What's happening?_ "

"My cover was blown, I had to move." Her tone was mechanical, like a robot's. She felt like she was talking about somebody else. "I'm sorry."

" _Any casualties?_ "

( _Facts. Just report the facts._ )

"Two Marines, probably KIA," Kara said. "At least one of the gunmen."

( _Lee being thrown back — his face — his pain —_ )

Nausea rose in her throat, and she had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting. "And Lee. It was crazy in there, confused. He got hit."

( _I hit him. I might have killed —_ )

Silence on the other end of the line, the kind of silence that hung heavy with dread. " _How bad?_ "

( _Bad. Very bad. I've never seen him in pain like that._ )

Kara whispered, "I don't know."

" _Stand by_ ," the Admiral ordered, suddenly businesslike again. " _Hold your position. Make no move unless you hear from me._ "

( _I won't. I can't._ )

The truth tasted ugly, metallic, coppery like blood. "It was friendly fire. Lee got hit by friendly fire." Bile was on her tongue now, a knife twisting in her stomach. "I think it was me."

( _I know it was me. It couldn't have been anyone else. No one could destroy him like that except me._ )

Another silence, much longer than the first. Kara imagined she could feel his condemnation all the way from _Galactica_.

" _You have your orders_ ," Adama said finally. And disconnected.

The weight of the radio rested in her hand.

***

 _Cold._

Everything was cold.

He stood outside, in Picon's north wind, at the bottom of a dark ocean, in the blankness of space. He fought naked in a hurricane. The cold lashed him, cruel splinters against his skin. Every inch was shivering cold, the kind of cold from right after you got out of the shower and the breeze dried the moisture on your skin. But this moisture didn't go away, it wouldn't. It lingered, mocking him as he tried to be rid of it. There were no towels in sight. No clothing he could grab. Nothing. Nothing but blackness and cold.

He could have dealt with that, though. He could have survived it, if not for the pain.

Each time he breathed in it was there and each time he breathed out it was there and it throbbed, stabbed, burned, eviscerated, gutted, tore, ripped. It bent him as a slave to its will. He thought he might find refuge in unconsciousness but there was none. Unconsciousness meant only that the blackness returned and triumphed and taunted him with the fact that he might sink into it forever.

It scared him, because he knew his ability to fight the pain was finite. He knew he could not last much longer like this. He was astonished, in fact, that he'd lasted this long.

This was not like being in that calm, peaceful lake. That had been his choice, and he'd understood that he could leave it at any time, should he wish to do so. Then, there was no physical weight on his chest. There was no pain. At the time he'd believed there was, had believed that the guilt he was feeling was worse than any pain that could befall him. He had welcomed the blackness. It seemed a wonderful shelter.

Now, it was his prison, and the pain his warden. The peaceful lake was gone, replaced by a roiling ocean, a place where he had to fight every second to keep his head above water. Even with his best effort the waves of agony pushed him under, and popping back up would have been easy except for the fact that the pain doubled and tripled when he sought to breathe, to flail his arms, to swim. When he finally made it back to the surface another wave would swamp him and he would have to begin all over again.

This happened hundreds of times.

And at the moment, he was weakening. He could feel it. What little strength he'd had to begin with was slipping away. It drained from him and the waves took it and gorged themselves on him, taking what was rightfully his to bolster their power. The waves and the pain and the blackness slowly pushed him down and he knew his body would never hold up, would never stand against the tremendous beating it was taking.

There was a reason he had to stay. But it was proving elusive, unattainable, to his battered brain.

"Lee?"

The single syllable sounded different, bizarre, like it was in another language. But it was his name.

Was _she_ —?

"Lee, stay with me, please, you have to stay —"

With superhuman effort he left the blackness behind, dragged his eyes open, hoping, maybe …

No. Not blonde hair, nor blue eyes. They were green instead, framed by dark-brown hair.

Still, Lee found his voice. He _had_ to ask. _Had_ to know.

"Kara …?"

"She got out," Dee told him, her tone full of sympathy. "She's fine. She's safe."

The burning had been in the background through all of that, and it surged suddenly as something pressed down where pressure was least welcome. _Not there, please, anywhere but there_ — and it was bad now, much worse, and he wanted to tell her to stop it but he was too busy fighting again, too busy outlasting —

The pressure increased. Lee couldn't hold back a groan this time.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He could see tears in her eyes. "I know it hurts."

"'S bad," he wheezed, and his lungs hungered for oxygen but he was afraid to breathe in, lest the pain flare again. "'S really bad …"

Dee stroked slow fingers through his hair. Lee imagined she was Kara, and felt comforted. "You have to stay, Lee. _Please_. You _have_ to."

 _If you_ ever _scare me like that again I will personally bring you back from the dead so I can kill you myself._

Kara had said that to him, months ago. At the time, it had been a comment to chuckle over, a bright spot in what had seemed to be an unquestionably dark period of his life. So typically Kara, even though she'd been terrified then. He loved her for her incredible strength, her skill, her laugh, her smile, her refusal to let the odds dictate what she did.

Right now, he feared the odds were not on his side.

And _that_ meant …

"Dee …"

She leaned over him once more, but from a different position, and Lee realized some minutes must have passed. He'd blacked out again, this time without even knowing it, and that scared him even more. The pressure and the pain were both stronger now. With effort he moved his eyes, seeing that Billy was now crouched over him. Lee's head was in Dee's lap, as she tried to cushion him, make him more comfortable. Which was pretty much impossible, but some small part of him appreciated the thought.

"Dee, tell Kara …"

She shook her head, a tear now tracking down her cheek. "You can tell her yourself, when you get out of here."

"If I don't …" His eyes squeezed shut and he fought the blackness, fought it with all of his remaining strength. "Tell her … I love her … she's 'mazing … and I don't … don't regret anything … and I love Will, so much …"

"Lee —" Her eyes were streaming now.

"Just tell her," he pleaded.

"All right," Dee said softly. "But you are going to tell her. Because you're _not_ leaving, do you hear me? You're _not_. _Please_."

"'S not … 's not up to me …" Spots darkened the edges of his vision, and the pain roared back again, and he tried to picture Kara — her hair, her eyes, her hand in his —

But it wasn't enough, and Lee tumbled down.

***

When your life slipped out of its orbit, time had no meaning.

Kara was fast discovering this to be truth.

In fact, only protesting muscles and the heaviness of her chest clued her in to the fact that any time had passed at all. Her back was sore from being pressed against the wall — she hadn't moved since disconnecting the Admiral's last call — and her breasts had filled with milk that would normally be needed for Will's next feeding.

Now, she wasn't sure if she should be allowed in the same room with him.

 _You are a cancer. Do you hear me? You will never be anything else._

Usually she managed to stifle that voice in the back of her mind. To quiet the words that were at heart her mother's. But she listened now, because she deserved every word.

 _Do you understand why you are being punished?_

Yes. Because she'd gone against the will of the gods, flouted the warning they tried to deliver with Zak's death. Instead of doing the unselfish thing, Kara had snatched as much happiness as she could. Every time she lay with Lee, every time she kissed him, every time she felt his skin against her cheek, every time she smiled at him, every time she picked up their son and looked into those eyes that were so like Lee's, she was taking something that did not belong to her.

 _This hurts me more than it hurts you._

Except that it couldn't, because Kara doubted anyone was hurting more than Lee right now.

 _Look Momma in the eye and tell her you're sorry, brat._

She was. She was unspeakably sorry.

But what scared her, more than anything … was that she wasn't sure if she was sorry enough to do what should be done.

She didn't know if she was sorry enough _or_ unselfish enough to let go of him. Something always seemed to draw her back, to shatter her resistance.

Kara sucked in a breath as the doors at the other end of the hall opened, and a phalanx of Marines appeared, wheeling a stretcher with a covered body on it. She thought of Adama's last communication, his terse words that he planned to try and fool the terrorists by giving them the corpse of the _other_ Sharon, the Sharon who'd died on _Galactica_. Kara wanted to tell him not to do it, not to attempt another risk, not to decide on an action with the potential for as much danger, if not more, than the one she had taken. But he was the Admiral, and Lee was his son, and what Kara did had emphatically _not_ worked. She knew she needed to trust his judgment.

But how could she, when she could barely even trust herself?

She watched as the stretcher rolled by. Watched as Adama rounded the corner after it, his face set, carved from stone. Somehow, somehow, Kara stumbled to her feet, standing to greet him, a question forming on her lips.

 _You selfish bitch. Lee sacrificed himself for you and this is how you repay him?_

She ignored the voice, and faced Adama.

"Admiral, let me help," Kara whispered. " _Please_."

He captured her in an embrace, his grip strong and sure and everything she did not deserve. "He'll be okay, Kara. I promise you that. Lee's strong."

 _But not strong enough to be with me and not get hurt._

"Sir, I —"

"It's okay," he said again, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Let me take it from here."

The Admiral motioned to his Marines, and they pushed the stretcher to the door. Kara looked on, bereft, staring at two small dark tearstains on his uniform's shoulder. The marks of her own guilt.


	34. Chapter 34

_The ocean had calmed._

Incredibly, improbably, it had calmed.

He had thought there was nothing left but to simply slip away, the well of his strength long since drained dry. He'd sunk beneath the waves again, focusing on nothing but Kara and Will. He wanted to take them with him, wanted their faces to be the last sights he saw before he lost himself. It was hard not to have regrets. He wouldn't see his son grow up, except perhaps through the filmy lens of whatever might pass for an afterlife. It wasn't enough. He wanted to be there, really be there, for Will. But he wouldn't be. His son would know him only from the memories of others, from an occasional word or a quiet thought or all the other ways that the dead could be conjured, but never truly present. He wasn't so much scared or shocked as saddened by the idea. He wished he'd spent more time with Will. He wished, weirdly, that they'd taken more pictures.

He missed his son already, and his eternity hadn't even begun. He wanted to hold Will, hug him, kiss him goodbye. He wanted to see him one last time. Just one. He wanted to capture in his memory one of his child's heart-stopping grins. They were so like Kara's. Wide, unabashed, inviting the rest of the universe to smile too, to laugh, to rejoice. And his laugh … there was nothing like a baby's laugh. Will had only recently started laughing out loud, but the sound was infectious. If Lee could have listened to only one noise for the rest of time, he would have chosen his son's laugh.

Then again, it would have been a tough competition with Kara, with everything she did and said. One of his favourite things about her, oddly, was the time just before she fell asleep. She would sigh softly — a sigh of true contentment — and burrow just that much deeper into him, and he'd wrap his arm around her and rest his chin on the top of her head as her breathing grew deep and regular. In moments like that he knew he could not possibly love her more. There was not enough room in his heart, mind, body, to contain what he felt for this woman.

How could he leave all of that behind? How could he leave them _behind?_

If the choice had been up to him, he wouldn't have. But what he'd told Dee was accurate: that choice was not his to make. He had no control, no power, over the waves of pain that sought to bury him.

And then, as the pain had increased exponentially, as Lee realized that this was likely the start of his final slide into darkness … the ocean began to calm.

It was subtle at first. A gradual drowsiness, an understanding that suddenly he didn't need to fight so hard … accompanied by returning clarity, the feeling of a hand in his, movement — he was moving, though not under his own power — and he might have believed that this was death, but for the fact that if he opened his eyes (a little, just a little) he could see lights flashing overhead, and for some strange reason, his father's face. Dad looked calm, though worried. Lee glanced to his other side, hoping Kara might be there, but spotted only a stranger who was wheeling an IV drip.

The drowsiness was stronger than the pain, somehow, incredibly, and it was spreading through his veins, sweet relief. He was still cold, exhausted, freezing, shivering … but maybe … maybe … he could start to cope.

To hope.

***

Floating.

The pain was gone.

Somehow, somehow — thank those supposedly nonexistent gods — the pain was gone.

Right now, he would've done anything. Would've sworn fealty to the Lords of Kobol a thousand times over in thanks for this relief. There was a deep, penetrating ache in his shoulder that he knew he'd have to deal with at some point, and that he would probably end up cursing, but that time was not now. Now, there was only sweet, blissful, _wonderful_ relief.

He didn't have to fight anymore. He could just rest. Sleep. Truly, deeply sleep.

And he was floating. Floating in a warm, cushioned cocoon, welcoming the drowsiness, allowing it to beat off the small twinges of discomfort. His awareness arrived in bits and snatches, tiny snippets of voices and beeping sounds and more voices and occasional gentle pressure on his chest and wrist. Once, the pain began to triumph again, and he had no resistance left to suffer in silence (as would have been his usual custom), so he moaned, long and to his ears, loud, and someone whispered "Shhh" and stroked his forehead softly. And some small part of him _knew_ who this person was, understood instinctively that _she_ was there, watching over him, and that made all the difference. He focused on her fingers touching his skin, caressing his cheek, twining through his hair, and by the time he thought to consider the pain again, it had gone, buried under more of the delicious drowsiness being pumped into him.

So Lee returned to his cocoon, and slept, and slept, and slept.

When he next touched down, the lights had been dimmed, soothing half-darkness surrounded him, and she was holding his hand. Her fingers were laced through his, the cool metal of her thumb ring pressing his skin.

The cocoon was still comfortable, still far better than lying on the floor of _Cloud Nine_ 's bar fighting the ocean while his life leaked out around him. But it felt like someone had turned the environmental controls down about ten degrees. Involuntarily he shivered, his grip on her hand tightening, and she touched his forehead again.

"Lee?" Kara whispered.

She sounded … broken.

She looked it, too, when with effort he raised his eyelids to half mast. There were dark circles under her eyes, her hair was coming loose from its customary ponytail, and the jacket of her BDUs was unbuttoned, revealing clearly delineated wet spots on the front of her tanks. Her cheeks were wet as well. Obviously, she'd been crying.

Kara Thrace had been _crying_.

When had she last cried? Lee chased the question through his foggy brain. Not since Zak's funeral? That sounded about right. She'd hugged him after the casket had been lowered into the ground, and when they broke apart, he'd found tearstains on his uniform. He hadn't wanted to ask her any questions, though. She had cracked enough already that one more word might just shatter her, like a reed blowing over in a stiff wind. _Fragile_ was never a word he'd associated with Kara before, but it applied then.

And apparently now, too.

He wanted to ask her if she was okay, to say how glad he was to see her, but his tongue felt thick and unresponsive in his mouth. Lee managed only a supremely unsatisfactory "Mmmm."

"Hey." She smiled, but it didn't stretch to her eyes. "How're you feeling?"

"Could ask you … same question." Saying it took further effort, and careful enunciation to ensure the words didn't just end up a blur of slurred syllables.

One hand came up to brush her hair back, and she actually sniffled. "Don't be a masochist, Lee, all right? I know it's not exactly out of character for you, but come on."

So Kara. _So_ Kara that it hurt, in a good way. And he'd almost lost all of this.

"Cold," he admitted, a renewed chill rippling through him. "'S cold in here."

Kara ran her palm once down his arm, then again, rubbing to create friction. "I think Ishay put a blanket in the warmer for you a couple hours ago, I'll see if I can find her." She rose as if to walk away, but paused, her gaze falling downwards. "Um, I need my hand, Lee."

He blinked, followed her eyes and realized he was still holding tightly to her fingers, comically if unintentionally. Lee could feel his cheeks reddening, but Kara made no comment, bending to kiss his knuckles before laying his hand gently on top of the sheet. He let his eyes slide closed again as she padded away, too tired to keep them open.

It seemed like only a second passed before Kara was back, the medic unexpectedly in tow. Inwardly Lee sighed. He just wanted to get warm, feel Kara's hand in his again, and go back to sleep. _So tired._ More than he'd been even over the last three months, and he had thought that was the most fatigue a body could possibly generate. He was wrong, of course. Now he was tired _and_ battered, and he didn't even want to know where Ishay planned to stick the thermometer she was holding.

Apparently reading his thoughts, Kara smirked, a little of her usual persona showing through. "Bet you didn't think I'd be asking you to spread your legs so soon, huh?"

"Funny," Lee mumbled, but he was glad to see her strength momentarily returning with the joke, and he managed to lift the corners of his mouth for her, just a little, in appreciation.

Ishay looked a little startled at their banter, though she soon recovered enough to lift his sleeve and slide the thermometer under his arm — his _left_ arm, thankfully, and without mention of potentially using any other orifices for this purpose. He hadn't really believed Kara on that front, but it wouldn't exactly have been out of the realm of possibility either. Lords knew he must have been poked and prodded around enough since being brought in here.

Lee dozed again, existing in that half-aware state between awake and asleep, as Ishay held his wrist and the thermometer dug uncomfortably into his armpit. At last it beeped, and he sighed once more, this time in relief, when she took it away and circled to his other side.

"You're running a low-grade fever, Captain," Ishay said, making a notation on his chart, "which isn't unusual after what you've been through, but we'll keep an eye on it. Right now your heart rate is a little more elevated than I'd like, which suggests to me you're under some stress, so I'm going to consult with Dr. Cottle and we'll probably raise your morpha dose a bit overnight. We want you to get a good rest."

Frak, he wanted that too. He wanted that _desperately_. He was exhausted and frozen and he'd been awake for far too long now, even though it probably only amounted to about ten or fifteen minutes. He wished there was a way to tell her, politely, to go away and leave him alone. Well. Not _alone_. With Kara, who was all he wanted right now. Kara would have said something, were she in his position. Then he thought about her in this bed, feeling pain and tiredness and cold the way he'd felt, and abruptly he decided he didn't want to think about that anymore.

The medic was right by his bedside now, and he nervously followed her gloved hand with his eyes as she reached toward his too-recently-assaulted shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut again, actively fearful of more pain. It _would_ hurt if she touched it, if she peeled back the gown he wore to do _anything_ with the wound. Why him? Why _now?_ He longed for his cocoon, for a blanket, for the delicious drowsiness, for Kara's touch.

"Hey, do you really have to do that now?" It was _her_ voice, speaking up, angrily demanding, and nothing sounded more wonderful. "'Cause if you want him to relax, frakking around with that dressing won't get you anywhere."

Lee could have kissed her.

He _would_ have, if he'd had the strength.

"I suppose we could hold off for a few hours." Ishay sounded slightly reluctant, but she backed off, and he sagged in relief, the wound twinging sharply as his muscles contracted around it. "Although if it's hurting that much —"

"You just scared the shit out of him, that's why!" Kara snapped. "Look, just give him the godsdamned morpha, leave him alone and let me warm him up. Is that really so tough?"

The medic glared for a moment, but even she wasn't brave enough to go up against a pissed-off Starbuck, and Ishay soon backed off and left. A part of Lee's mind wondered idly how Ishay had survived attending Kara in labour, though he reflected that perhaps it wasn't as much of a problem as it could have been considering that most of Kara's abuse had been directed towards him.

But he had no trouble admitting now that she was a damn good person to have in your corner when you were sick of nosy medics.

"Frakking doctors," Kara muttered with a shake of her head, unfolding and flapping out the thick blanket she was holding. "Cylon or human, they're all the same."

That struck him as an odd remark to make, but, uncomfortable as he was, he couldn't find the energy to say anything other than, "Hmmm?"

"Selective hearing much?" She was busy at his feet, starting to tuck the blanket around him. "Look, it's nothing you need to worry about right now, okay? Just …" Here Kara paused, and looked away for a moment. "Just get better. That's your only job."

Lee wished it was as easy as that, that getting back to his usual self and resuming normal activities was simply a matter of having enough determination. Where before his focus had been so much on the future, now he couldn't even imagine tomorrow, or the next day, or the week after that. He couldn't imagine being anywhere but in this bed, with this pain and this cold, because the future was frightening. The future was difficult, and it would take far more energy than he knew he possessed at the moment. Maybe it was a good thing that the future could unfold only one day at a time.

Right now, he focused only on the present. He focused only on Kara, on the gentle, sure motions of her hands as she pulled the blanket up and over him, careful not to disrupt the two metal IV poles standing sentinel next to the bed, nor any of the lines or monitors that snaked from those poles to find his flesh. He watched through half-closed eyes as she circled around and tugged the other side of the covers past his left arm, and he savoured the way her fingertips softly brushed against him on their way by. To feel human touch, and not have it hurt, was magical.

Then the blanket was tucked up to his chin, and someone else came and punched a few buttons on one of the intravenous pumps, and more of the drowsiness started to flow into him, overtaking his mind. Lee had found his cocoon again, and was exceedingly grateful, but there was something else he wanted, _required_ , and he drew up his last portions of strength to ask her.

"Kara …"

She cleared her throat, brushed her hair back again. "What do you need?"

"Can you … get on the pillow?"

Kara looked uncomfortable. "Lee, I really don't think you'd like it if I got in there with you. I think we'd be scraping your ass off the ceiling, actually. And I don't —"

She cut herself off abruptly and looked away again, but he had little difficulty guessing the rest of what she'd been about to say.

 _I don't want to hurt you._

"Not your body," he clarified, though it was almost impossible to enunciate properly now. "Just … your head. On the pillow. _Please._ "

Kara sighed, but rose from her chair and knelt next to the bed, folding her hands over one another and leaning down, down, until her head was parallel with his, their noses almost touching. He could feel her breath hissing in and out against his face, see the sadness present in her eyes as she watched him, as concerned and empathetic a look as she'd probably ever worn.

"Good?" she asked.

"Yeah." Sleep tugged at him, gentle and insistent, but he again managed a small smile. "Hell of a vacation."

Quick grief flashed across her features, emotion that he probably wouldn't even have seen if they hadn't been face-to-face. As was her custom, Kara recovered immediately, and rolled her eyes. "Let's not even go there, all right?"

"Works … for me," Lee mumbled, and indeed, he had no wish to relive what had happened in the lounge on _Cloud Nine_ right now.

The cocoon beckoned, so he sank into it once more, welcoming sleep.

***

Kara kept her eyes on him.

She kept watching, long after she should have looked away, long after his eyelids had eased shut and his breathing turned deep and regular. Lee had told her once that at the end of the day, once they'd gotten Will to bed and were settled down, his favourite thing to do was simply watch her fall asleep, gaze at her as she slumbered. At the time Kara had tossed off a typically flippant response, telling him he was crazy (or something like that; she couldn't exactly remember). But now?

Now, she had to admit that watching someone sleep had its charms, under certain circumstances.

Now, she would have given anything, _anything_ , for them to be in their quarters as usual. She would have given anything to curl up next to him and press her cheek to his chest, her preferred sleeping position.

Instead, Kara was kneeling by a bed in sickbay, her face inches from Lee's as the equipment on the other side monitored his vital signs and dripped nutrients and several strong painkillers into his veins. He'd had two blood transfusions in the operating room, but he still looked deathly pale, almost gray. She just hoped that the medications were doing their jobs, and Lee wasn't hurting.

Technically, she shouldn't even be here. The guilt still gnawed at her, that voice in the back of her head that wouldn't shut the hell up, that she listened to because it spoke the truth. She felt confused, bereft, and she almost wished she could talk to Lee the way she had when she was angry with Scar and upset about Sam. But Lee was in no condition to be burdened with any of her shit right now. She'd settle for Helo, and he was supposed to be bringing Will to her in sickbay, but they hadn't arrived yet.

After all of the terrorists had been shot, the Admiral and the Marines had raced into the bar. Kara, lingering uncomfortably by the doorway, had realized that she couldn't think of Bill Adama as a military commander in that moment. He was just a father, sick with worry over his firstborn son. If Lee could somehow have seen things from Kara's perspective, he wouldn't have had any doubt anymore as to whether his father loved him. Kara was sure of that. There was nothing of the stern Admiral in Adama as he bent over his child, as he grasped Lee's hand, shouted for a medic, begged his son to respond. As Kara watched, she'd had a weird urge to hold her own son, to see Will, to clasp her arms protectively around him.

But the guilt had overwhelmed her once more, and she snuck away, called Karl, tersely explained the situation. She didn't speak of her role in it — not feeling ready to talk about that yet — and said only that Lee had been shot and that she'd be returning to _Galactica_ after she packed up the stuff in their room. Helo told her not to worry about Will; he'd bring the baby as soon as possible. Part of Kara felt momentarily ashamed that Karl was cutting his own vacation short, but there was only so much shame that one mind could contain, and it was soon pushed aside over her much larger concerns for Lee.

By the time she got back to _Galactica_ , he'd already been brought over and rushed into surgery. Kara had taken up residence in the small seating area outside sickbay, not at all sure what she should do, what was expected of her, even if that was where she ought to be. Maybe she was supposed to give a report to somebody, somewhere. It felt like she waited for an eternity before Adama emerged, and without a word, wrapped her in another embrace.

She didn't deserve that sort of kindness, especially not from him. She _didn't_.

"He's stable," the Admiral had said, answering her unspoken question. "He lost a lot of blood, so it was touch and go for a while. But they removed the bullet, and got him started on a course of antibiotics to fight infection. He's in recovery now, and he's asking for you."

Kara had started to shake her head. "Sir, I can't —"

"Yes you can," he'd interrupted. "You can. Lee wants to see you. First question he asked me when he woke up was where you were."

"Does he know?"

"I think he suspects, but he didn't say anything to me. Kara, it wasn't your fault."

 _Yes, it was._

Before she could protest, though, Adama had reiterated that she should go in to see his son, and given the gaze he then leveled at her, Kara couldn't reasonably say no. She was at least somewhat grateful that the Admiral didn't seem to blame her, that he wasn't flinging accusations, but this quiet acceptance was almost worse in some senses. He _should_ have been blaming her, _should_ have been disappointed, but he was not. Perhaps he believed that allowing her to see Lee would be its own punishment.

In a way, it was. When she'd finally made her way to the recovery room, Lee had been asleep (or unconscious?), but he woke up soon afterward, crying out in pain. Kara didn't think she'd ever heard a worse noise than those moans of agony. Strangely, he had calmed when she held his hand and whispered to him, not really words but sounds, sounds that were meant to be soothing and apparently worked. Encouraged, she stroked his forehead, his cheeks, ran her fingers through his hair, even bent to kiss him at one point, and while she did this, Ishay had arrived with a plethora of syringes and needles. Morpha, anti-anxiety medications, tranquilizers, knock him out, help him let go of the pain. Soon after, Lee had finally relaxed, and they moved him to his current location in sickbay, where Kara now crouched beside his bed with her head next to his on the pillow.

He looked peaceful, for which she thanked the gods. She wasn't sure what he remembered of waking up in the recovery area, and hoped it wasn't much. Kara just wanted to fix his features in her memory, the way his brow smoothed with the extra medicine, his soft breath on her face, how his eyes fluttered occasionally beneath their lids. He was warm to the touch, but not too warm, and Kara silently asked the gods to give him a good rest tonight.

Exhaustion pulled at her too, but she knew she couldn't leave. Neither _should_ she stay, being the perpetrator of Lee's current difficulties, but — but — godsdammit, she was selfish, she was the most horrible kind of person to keep coming back to him and putting him in danger. To go against the gods' warnings. But Kara couldn't stay away.

She _couldn't_.

She loved him too much.

And that scared her even more than the fact that he had almost bled to death in _Cloud Nine_ 's bar. It scared her as well that she was getting closer and closer to the point of no return, to the point of _daring_ , where she might tell him this aloud. If that wasn't tempting the gods, Kara didn't know what was. Lee had only recently started saying he loved her, and she had only recently started to believe it, and accept it without the overwhelming fear she'd experienced on Colonial Day. But she hadn't been able to say it back. She knew there was some part of him that longed to hear it, though he never pressured her or made her feel obligated to respond. Now, though …

Kara took a breath. Her hand found his under the covers, and squeezed softly.

She had almost lost him. A few more minutes, and he might not have been able to come back to her.

"Lee …"

It was so hard. It was almost impossible, even though he was sleeping and wouldn't hear.

She was tempting the gods, tempting them and tantalizing them to make something else happen.

But she didn't care anymore. She wasn't strong enough _or_ unselfish enough to stop herself this time. He had almost died, and maybe she wouldn't get another opportunity. Some things shouldn't be left unsaid.

"Lee … I love you."

There.

Kara waited.

No lightning struck them down. The ship didn't blow up. The Cylons didn't come, and no one appeared to tell her she should have kept her mouth shut. Lee's heart monitor continued to beep. His breath blew against her face, and one of his fingers twitched in her hand, but he didn't wake up. His closed eyes moved rapidly now. Maybe he was dreaming; she wondered of what.

"Kara?"

She jumped, at first thinking Lee had spoken after all. But no: this voice was strong, not fuzzy with meds, and it came from behind her. She raised her head, still keeping hold of Lee's hand, and saw Karl Agathon at the entrance to the small cubicle.

"Hey, Helo."

"Hey." He stepped closer, and she could see Will wrapped in a blanket and cuddled against his shoulder, fast asleep. Her breath caught in her chest with longing. "Sorry we're a bit late. I wanted to see if this little guy would wake up before I had to disturb him by taking him in a Raptor, but no dice."

"Nah, those don't bother him at all." Kara gave Lee's fingers a last squeeze and stood. "It, um … it started as a dumb joke, I guess. Whenever he won't stop crying Lee takes him to the hangar deck and climbs in a Viper with him and starts the auxiliary power. You know the vibrating gyros they have. And he calms down. It's stupid, but it works."

Helo laughed. "To each their own. Maybe he's gonna follow in his parents' footsteps someday."

"Over my dead body," Kara muttered. Gods, that was the last damn thing she needed, to hug her son goodbye and then send him hurtling through a launch tube. "By the time he grows up, there'd better not be anything left to shoot."

She reached for her son then, and Helo slipped Will gently into her arms. Kara's eyes slid momentarily closed as the baby's warm weight settled onto her shoulder and she caught a whiff of powder, milk, everything that defined the child for her. It was crazy, how she hadn't wanted him at first but had somehow come to adjust, and now felt strange and bereft if she didn't see Will for a long time. That was a kind of weakness Kara would never have accepted from herself a year ago, but at the moment, it was almost … normal. She pressed her cheek to the top of his head and just _breathed_ , peace washing over her for the first time in hours as he snuffled a little and buried his face more deeply in her neck.

"How was he for you?" she asked softly.

"Fine. He took a bottle, under duress."

"Yeah, he doesn't like them very much."

"Considering the alternative, he's a wise little man," Helo snickered, and Kara smacked her friend lightly. "He cried a bit, but I walked him around for awhile and he was okay. But he's definitely awake more often than he used to be. And he's got a great smile. Just like his dad."

"Yeah." She shut her eyes, almost wincing, and turned her head to press a kiss to Will's forehead. "I'm sorry I had to … leave him with you so long."

"It was no trouble. Good practice for when my kid's born."

"I guess so." Involuntarily Kara's gaze flicked back to Lee, and Karl followed her look.

"Kara, what happened?" he asked.

"I told you, Helo, a recon mission went sour, the terrorists blew our cover, and Lee got shot," she snapped, more harshly than she'd intended to. "End of story."

"How's he doing?"

"Okay, I guess." Dammit, she _really_ didn't want to talk about this right now. "He was in surgery for a couple hours, and he lost a ton of blood, but the doc says he'll be all right."

"And?"

Kara tried to think of something else to say, something about Lee that wouldn't cleave her in two. There was nothing. "He … he was in a lot of pain when he woke up. They've got him on the good stuff, the really heavy meds. He sleeps a lot, mostly. Kind of like his kid." She attempted a smile, but it came out looking more like a grimace.

"What else?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What the hell do you mean, Karl? I've given you the basics — if you want a godsdamned medical report, go see Cottle!"

"I mean what aren't you telling me?" Helo pinned her with a look. "Because when you called me on _Cloud Nine_ you sounded like you wanted to throw yourself out an airlock, Kara. And you don't sound much better now. You and I both know there's more going on here than Lee getting shot by some terrorist."

Typical Helo. He could always see right through her, right to the ugly truths about herself that she tried to hide, yet he never judged her or made her feel stupid for anything, even after some of her most screwed-up stunts. He just listened, said what he thought, and then allowed her to draw her own conclusions. Usually, she was pushed in the right direction. If not for Karl talking to her on Caprica, she wouldn't have had the courage to square things with Lee, she probably wouldn't be holding Will right now, and she certainly wouldn't have just admitted to Lee that she loved him. Not that he could answer, but the act was still important.

For all of those reasons, Kara bit her lip and sucked in a breath. "It wasn't a terrorist."

"Excuse me?"

"It wasn't a terrorist who shot him." She couldn't look at her friend, nor could she raise her voice above a whisper. "It was me."

Karl made a sudden move, as though to grip her shoulder, but apparently thought better of it.

Briefly she told him what had happened, about her cover as a maintenance worker, how that cover had been blown, and how Lee had attempted to dive in front of her to prevent one of the terrorists from shooting her in the head. She'd barely finished speaking before Helo interjected.

"My gods, Kara, it wasn't your fault!" Now he did reach for her hand, and squeezed it. "I know you pulled the trigger," Helo added at the look on her face, "but there was no way you could've guessed what he was going to do. All right? He was trying to protect you, just like you wanted to protect him."

" _But I frakking shot him!_ " She _hated_ how her voice trembled right there. "I frakking shot him and he almost died, Helo! Okay? How is that not my fault?"

Helo fixed her with another look. "Did you mean to shoot him?"

"Of course not!" Kara exclaimed.

"Did you tell Lee to dive in front of that guy when he was aiming the gun?"

"No!"

"Did you set the terrorists up to take over the bar and hold everybody hostage?"

"No, but —"

"Then, Kara, please explain to me how the hell this is your fault."

"I don't know!" she said wildly, trying stubbornly to hold onto the guilt she knew she should feel. "It just _is!_ "

Karl crossed his arms. "Well, that's just not a good enough reason."

Kara stared at him, fighting a strange impulse to burst out laughing. Surely that was simply fatigue, fatigue and the stress of the situation. It couldn't be that Helo's assessment made a bizarre kind of sense. Incongruously she thought of Dee and Billy, who'd also been in the bar with Lee. Billy had died tonight, shot by one of the terrorists as he attempted to prevent Dee being killed. Was that much different from what Lee did? Did Dee blame herself for Billy's death? Kara had seen her afterward, briefly, and while Dee appeared shattered and grief-stricken, she didn't have that same look of haunted guilt that Kara could so easily recognize in herself. Really, Dee _shouldn't_ feel guilty. Billy just wanted to make sure she was safe.

But no, Kara's mind whispered to her, the situation _was_ different. Because of Zak. Because Kara had directly contributed to his death, and because she had now _almost_ killed his older brother. Because she destroyed everything and everyone she loved. Right?

Before she could even begin to reconcile these two modes of thought in her mind, Helo spoke again.

"Kara, I understand you may not believe you're very lucky right now, but I think you are," he said softly. "You love Lee, and we both know he loves you back, more than anything. He'd follow you anywhere, do anything for you. He took a bullet for you, for frak's sake. You have a son together. You're a family, in a time when most people hardly have any family left at all. Me, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I love a woman who isn't really a woman, and I have no idea what'll happen when my daughter is born. She'll start her life in a godsdamned jail cell. I can't talk to Sharon except through bars and glass, and I sure can't touch her. But you and Lee, you're out here, you're free, and he _didn't_ die, and he's not going to. You've got your whole lives ahead of you. Don't throw all that away just because you're feeling guilty over something that wasn't even your responsibility in the first place."

"Helo —" Kara broke off, not even sure what she was going to say, how she could counter an argument that ran so close to her own thoughts earlier.

"He'll forgive you. I know he will. Probably as soon as he next wakes up. He's an Adama, Kara. When it comes to you, they can't help it." Karl chuckled.

At this, she smiled. "Except Lee's mother. She never liked me much."

"Well, she was an Adama by marriage," Helo said, as if that explained it all. "It's something in their genes."

Now Kara laughed. He certainly spoke the truth, at least on those two points.

And maybe, just maybe … if she tried … she might start to believe the other stuff too.


	35. Chapter 35

When he woke, he was alone.

He did not feel her grip on his hand. She was absent from her usual spot beside the bed, the white chair empty. The lights had been turned up — was it daytime, or whatever passed for daytime on a battlestar? — but there was no one there, no one in the cubicle. His body was heavy, still drugged, still drowsy, he had the worst case of cotton mouth he could remember, and he felt vaguely nauseated. And despite the fact that he must have been asleep for hours, perhaps even days, he was _exhausted_.

And his shoulder hurt.

And he was too hot.

The cocoon was stiflingly uncomfortable. He was sure sweat must be gathering on his forehead; he could _feel_ it there. Disgusting, utterly disgusting. Of course, he had no clue when he might next be able to shower. Right now, he could barely contemplate leaving his bed, let alone walking the distance to a head and standing in a shower stall for five minutes. And that would just be standing. It wouldn't be washing or shampooing or anything else.

He wondered if he should turn the tables on Kara and ask _her_ to give _him_ a bath. Knowing her, she'd probably happily oblige. Wherever she was.

Logically, Lee knew she couldn't be with him all the time. She had CAP to fly and shifts to fill and classes to teach, and there was Will, and she would have to sleep somewhere in there too. It was unfair of him to expect her to always sit by his bedside, waiting to see if he'd wake up and need something. He hated the idea of being that dependent on someone in any case. But, neither could he deny that having her there was useful. She did a great job of advocating for him, like she had last night. And she was worth her weight in cubits in other ways too.

As she would be now, when he was so — frakking — _warm_ that he could barely stand it.

Well, there was no time like the present to start trying to be independent again. After all, he had to begin somewhere.

Slowly, he moved his left arm, just a little, gentle sweeps back and forth. So far, so good. He could even get it out from under the blanket by sliding it sideways, which greatly encouraged him. Then, he lifted it, inch by inch, allowing the covers to slide off it until it was almost straight up in the air. Back down again, and he grasped the corner of the blanket still tucked around him, starting to peel it carefully backwards.

Unfortunately, his luck ran out there, and it did so in dramatic fashion. The covers caught on his other shoulder, the injured one, and as he moved his left hand to free them, the tips of his fingers _just_ brushed the thick bandage underneath the gown.

That was more than enough. Pain exploded through the wound, beginning in the center and radiating outwards until his neck, his torso, his back all shot sharp stabs down his nerve endings. He fell onto the pillow, which only made things worse, and _surely_ it hadn't been this bad yesterday? (Or whenever?) This was almost comparable to when the bullet had been there, but he knew that was gone. It was bad now. Or maybe he was just more sober.

Regardless, Lee was rapidly approaching the point where he didn't care what the reason was. A new enemy had entered the fray: the nausea, which seemed to be exacerbated and increased by the pain. He didn't understand how, since he certainly hadn't eaten much since yesterday. He shouldn't be this sick on an empty stomach. But then, it seemed blatantly clear that for the moment, his body had given up paying attention to anything he wanted it to do.

He couldn't reach the call button, and in any case, the whole of his existence and sanity now depended upon not moving a single muscle. He lay stiffly, covers half on and half off, teeth gritted, throat muscles working convulsively as he fought a battle on two fronts: with the pain, and with his stomach. There wasn't the strength for both, so one would necessarily have to win out. Of course, it would have to be the one that would make the most mess.

Lee had just figured out he could probably cut down on how disgusting this would be by turning his head to the side, when footsteps sounded outside the cubicle. He didn't know if he should thank or kill whoever happened to be in the vicinity. On one hand, they might be bringing help, but on the other, he did _not_ want anyone to see him like this.

The curtain was pushed aside, and in came Kara, loaded down with folders under her arm, flight evaluations tucked against her tanks, a water bottle in one hand, and a sheaf of papers in her mouth. Over her other shoulder was Lee's old duffel bag from the _Atlantia_ , in which they'd taken to carrying around Will's diapers and other supplies, and in her left hand she clutched the handle of their son's infant seat.

Not immediately looking at Lee, she set the bottle down on a bedside table and spat the papers out onto the ever-present chair. "I swear to gods, you kids should make your mom grow an extra arm before you come," Kara muttered to Will. "It'd be a hell of a lot more useful than giving me a spare tire I can't get rid of for trying."

The infant cooed in response, and she rolled her eyes, but with affection. "Yeah, must be pretty funny from where you're sitting. I'm just lucky your dad doesn't mind a bit of extra padding."

Ordinarily Lee would have found this exchange endearing, would probably have teased her about it later, but he couldn't enjoy it at the moment, not with the roiling ocean having moved inside his stomach and up his throat. Kara dug a sack out of the duffel bag that smelled strongly of mess hall food, and that was it for his fragile grasp on control.

"Frak," he mumbled, and leaned over as she finally finished putting all her stuff down and stepped closer to the bed. "Kara, don't, 'm gonna —"

Without another word, she understood, and astonishingly, she had a basin under his chin and his body half-propped in her arms before he could blink. He didn't even know where the receptacle had come from, but he was grateful for it, and for her calm matter-of-factness about the situation. Kara just held on, cradling his head in a gentle grip that prevented undue jostling of the injured shoulder as he coughed and heaved. The wound still stabbed and stung, fiercely resentful of the new position, but that was a secondary concern for now; his insides were writhing.

Kara was making more of those soothing noises, sounds that would have been stupid under any other circumstance, but now seemed somehow comforting. "Better out than in, Apollo," she said softly, her thumb tracing the shell of his ear. "Don't try to fight it, all right? It'll just be worse."

Lee wanted to point out that he really didn't have much choice in the matter, but he grasped the sentiment behind the words, and it was appreciated. Besides, his attention was decidedly elsewhere, and remained so for several further minutes until he was dry-heaving, willing the nausea away because there was nothing left. _Shit._ He hadn't had the dry-heaves since his last bad hangover, and Lee could barely remember when _that_ had been.

At last there was a pause, in which he leaned back, panting for breath, and let Kara take his full weight. This, he hadn't bargained on. He'd thought that he could start to handle his situation as long as there was enough morpha, and enough sleep, and Kara. But this was just unfair. How many more ways were there for his body to desert him?

Lee didn't really want to know the answer to that question.

He supposed that at least he was alive.

But what use was being alive if you were puking all the time, so violently that you could barely remember your own name? What use was being alive if you couldn't leave your bed, and if the slightest motions caused you extreme pain? What use was being alive when you were continually dependent on other people for even the most basic of physical needs, and equally dependent on chemical substances that were the only things keeping you from eating your gun?

"Done?" Kara asked gently.

"Yeah," he muttered, and the double meaning seemed to mock him.

She lowered him back down to the pillow, touching his body to the mattress as carefully as possible, but he still winced, and pain still rippled through the shoulder. Lee curled in on himself, as much as he could, while Kara spoke quietly into the small intercom in the cubicle and Ishay's clipped tones answered. He gritted his teeth again, this time with the pain and the horrible taste in his mouth. Bile, disgusting and rancid. It matched his mood.

"Hey." The touch on his forehead was cool, soothing. Kara had a washcloth, one of Will's washcloths, that she'd moistened in her water and was now using to sponge his forehead. Lee scowled; even the thought of their baby did not cheer him in this moment. "Lee, it's just the morpha, all right? Morpha's a bitch on an empty stomach, that's all there is to it. And it's not gonna last forever, all right?"

"It's lasting long enough," he snapped, and she tensed for the barest of seconds. Lee thought of bringing up the truth, what he'd already guessed at: that Kara shot him, that she was at least partially responsible for his predicament. But that was hitting below the belt, even for the black mood in which he currently found himself.

"I know," Kara murmured, her tone one of comfort again. "I know."

"I hate this." He turned away, squeezed his eyes shut against the discomfort and ( _dammit_ , this was frakking humiliating and outright _ridiculous_ ) the threat of tears. _Tears._ Lords, what was the matter with him? He couldn't let her see this. Had to save face, had to go for the last bit of dignity he possibly could when there were tubes sticking out of his chest and his arms and even more embarrassing places than that. He wished he could be just about anywhere else.

The new position stressed the wound further, and the pain was almost intolerable, but Lee didn't care. He let it blot out everything else, immersed himself in it until he was a raw nerve ending, because he could cope with physical pain more than everything else that was happening. He was Kara's partner. He was a _father_. _He_ should be taking care of everyone else, not the other way around.

He waited, black and blue on the inside and out, until Ishay arrived with more medication, until he felt it flowing through him and dulling the pain and the remaining nausea. More chemicals. More dependence. He did not care. He did not give a flying frak. He wanted to wake up and be suddenly able to climb out of bed, dress himself, take a shower, eat something solid.

But that wouldn't happen, of course.

Lee let the cocoon take him, and did not respond to Kara's whispered words of solace.

***

 _He dreamed of happier times._

They were happier times, yet they clearly had not taken place, not that he could recall. He was with Kara and Will, with them on some planet, and Will was older — possibly two, or maybe three? Lee had never been that great at guessing kids' ages. Will could walk, anyway, and he had a head of soft, dark blonde hair that reminded Lee of the colour Zak's had been when his baby brother was little. It hurt to look at his son sometimes, the reminder of Zak so prescient, but only a bit. Will's eyes were Lee's, and his smile was Kara's, and he was Kara in the way he moved and laughed and grinned.

The family was picnicking in a field, which was rather silly, as they'd never done any such thing, and Lee had no idea when or if they might in reality. But they were, and the sun shone down brilliantly, and the air was clear, if a little cool. Will had on a light windbreaker, and Kara's jacket was tied around her waist. Her hair was longer, too, and hanging loosely about her face.

"Daddy, put me up!" Will exclaimed, holding out his arms. Somehow Lee knew that was what his son said when he wanted to be hoisted onto his shoulders, and he happily obliged. Nothing hurt, and his muscles felt sure and strong as he lifted the boy above his head. Will settled with his legs around his father's neck and his chin resting on the top of Lee's head. Lee kissed the exposed strip of skin at his son's ankle, and Kara laughed as she packed up the picnic.

They walked, enjoying the field in which they found themselves and the blue expanse of sky above them. Will pointed at birds, at bugs, at the trees rimming the clearing, and for an instant Lee was eight years old again, exploring with Zak and pretending that, being four years older than his brother, he was so much more knowledgeable and world-weary. He remembered teaching Zak to climb a tree, how to hang upside-down from said tree, the proper way to hold the garter snake they'd found so that it wouldn't bite and they could scare their mother with it later. The memories were present, but for some reason, they didn't feel as painful.

Kara was the one to find another harmless snake, her sharp pilot's eyes spotting it as it wriggled through the grass, and she held it up as Will shrieked in delight. He stretched out a finger to touch its tail, feeling the leathery scales, and Lee was cajoled into touching it also, even though snakes didn't hold nearly the appeal that they once had for him. Kara dared him to kiss it, but he drew the line there, so she rolled her eyes and called him a chicken and released the snake, none the worse for wear.

This planet wasn't Earth — he knew that instinctively somehow — but it was the closest thing to paradise he could think of. After they'd paused for a rest, Will flopped down on his back, rolling over and grinning, and Kara soon followed, wrestling around with her son while Lee watched. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he sat there, arms splayed out behind him. They were so … so … happy _. Rarely had he seen Kara carefree like this, nothing worrying her, guilt and stress only a distant menace. She rolled onto her back, laughter lighting her features as Will climbed on top of her._

"Did I gotcha?" he demanded, pounding a fist on her chest.

"You got me! Okay, you got me. You got me." She pulled him down, kissed his hair, and when he leaned in to hug her … flipped him over and had him gently pinned before he could draw another breath. "Lesson one, baby," Kara grinned, "never let up until your opponent's really down. Right?"

Will just exploded into giggles, trying to squirm out from under his mother, but she captured him again, her gaze finding Lee's.

"Hey, Lee," she whispered conspiratorially, jerking her head towards their son. "I see Will's stomach."

"Oh, you do?" He lowered his eyes towards the spot where the boy's shirt had ridden up during the tussle. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"I think we're gonna have to tickle him," Kara nodded, seriousness in every inch of her tone, but amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"No!" Will exclaimed, fresh laughter shaking his small frame. "No, no, no!"

"I think you're right," Lee told Kara, and he pulled himself forward on his elbows until he was level with them, running his fingers down his son's side, listening to Will's laugh … the laugh that he could hear forever and never get tired of, and it was soon joined by his other _favourite sound, Kara cackling with mirth as she helped him tickle the boy into submission._

Will shrieked, struggling valiantly and even trying to climb to his feet and scamper away, but his parents caught him easily and pinned him back down, until they were all piled in a heap, chests heaving, breath panting out, and deliriously, deliciously happy. _With their son between them, Lee leaned over and captured Kara's lips in a kiss, a kiss that communicated everything he felt he could not say in that moment …_

… and the images swirled, and he was on his back again, the sun lower in the sky, shadows dancing across his face, and Kara over him. He smiled as her long hair brushed his cheeks, a sense memory stirring to the surface that made him grin even more. Will wasn't with them anymore, but Lee knew the boy was safe, safe and being looked after so that he and Kara could spend some time alone.

Alone time.

He sighed with pleasure and gave himself over to her, focused entirely on the wonderful things she was doing to his body, both intentionally and unintentionally. His senses were full of Kara, as she kissed him, trailed a hand down his chest, settled herself on top of him and between his legs and oh — oh —

 _Tiny rocks dug into his back and some part of him was sure the grass was staining his skin, but then she began to move, up and down, and those thoughts flew out of his mind in a whirl of grunts and moans, as his universe became Kara once again, nothing but her on him and with him and around him, around him, clamping tightly, godsgodsgods —_

A rock cut him, the pain sharp and bright for a moment, but he didn't care.

He couldn't.

***

Lee came awake swiftly, as suddenly as though he'd been hit in the face.

The dream had been so vivid — so _sensory_ — he had to suck in a shocked breath, not from pain this time, but from certain attendant bodily responses that took an iron will to control. He was amazed he even possessed the strength for a reaction like this, considering. But it felt like his dream had happened, like it had been real, and waves of pleasure still bounced along his neurons as companions to the morpha and other drugs. Compared to how he'd been when he went to sleep … well, there _was_ no comparison. His circumstances might not have changed, but he was back in the cocoon, and more than that, it _felt_ good.

"Lee?"

She was still there.

Frak, she was still there.

He didn't know why he'd expected her to have left, other than perhaps that his luck was _never_ that good. Surely Kara had somewhere else to be. Surely she'd _want_ to be somewhere else, after what had happened before he'd fallen asleep. But she was there. She was there, surrounded by her papers and folders and the duffel bag and what looked like the remains of lunch. Soft snuffles at her feet came from Will, fast asleep. Seemed as though she'd been sitting for hours by his bedside, and something about that thought warmed him, made his lips quirk up in an unexpected ghost of a smile.

"Feeling better?" Kara interpreted, her hand drifting across his cheek.

"Not sick." It was half the truth, anyway — no _way_ was he going to tell her about the other half — and it was also something she'd believe. "'M sorry about that, by the way."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Your kid shits on me ten times a day and pisses on me twenty, Lee. You think I care? It's not like you haven't seen _me_ blow chunks before. You were just returning the favour." She winked.

 _True._ He couldn't fault the logic in that statement, and he certainly remembered how she'd succumbed to nausea in their tent on Kobol, back in the early months of her pregnancy. Lee hadn't felt embarrassed or disgusted; just concerned. But somehow it was different when you were on the other end of the deal. He didn't like to lose face in front of anybody — not his father, not the medics, and certainly not Kara. The most difficult thing about his predicament was not the pain, or the nausea, though those were inconveniences he could have done without. No: the most difficult thing was that his independence, and his dignity, had been so rudely snatched away. The most difficult thing was how hard he would have to work to regain himself. Lee was not averse to hard work. But he could also admit, if only inside his own mind, that he wished there was a way to just wake up and be magically healed, so that he'd climb out of bed tomorrow and embrace Kara and hold their son and dress himself and eat and shower on his own and sleep at normal times instead of most of the day. To have that assurance would be _wonderful_ , but he knew he'd never get it.

Lee was pretty certain that magical healing was not part of Cottle's talents.

"Some favour," he muttered, in answer to Kara's jibe.

He'd meant it humourously, as a way of putting a little levity back into the situation, and was surprised to see her composure crumble, for just a moment, while she looked at him. Then her Starbuck mask was firmly back in place, and she quickly lowered her eyes back to the file she'd been reading.

"Yeah, well, turnabout is fair play, Apollo." Her voice was so quiet that he almost wasn't sure he'd heard right at first.

Lee didn't exactly feel up to a big serious discussion right now, but knowing Kara as he did, there weren't likely to be many other opportunities. So, he drew up his strength again. "Kara, what's the matter?"

She glanced up, sharply. " _You're_ asking _me_ that?"

"Yeah. I am."

"Look, Lee, you're so drugged you could probably float away right now, and you need sleep. We'll talk later."

Sleep did beckon, invitingly, as she said it, but he pushed the feeling away for now. "Which is code for … you'll put it off for as long as you can until … until we finally end up fighting about it."

Kara rolled her eyes again and sighed heavily, but did not protest, and Lee knew he'd scored an early point. "Fine," she growled, and shut the folder with a slap, smacking it down forcefully onto the bedside table. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You know what," Lee said quietly.

"Oh, that I shot you? That I almost _killed_ you? Yeah, sure, Lee. Real cheery conversation this is going to be." Her angry tone belied real grief; he could tell.

"Maybe, but we need to have it."

Abruptly Kara rose from her chair, almost tipping it over in the process, and shoved both hands through her hair as she began to walk — no, _pace_ — around the cubicle. Lee just followed her with his eyes, waiting for the storm to break. It always did eventually.

"Look," she snapped, hands on hips, standing at the end of his bed, "do you have any idea what the last two days have been like for me? I frakking shoot you, I spend gods know how many hours not knowing if you're alive or dead, and you know damn well who I was thinking of the whole time! I am a _curse_ , okay? And I have caused so much damage to your family that I almost couldn't face even seeing you. And when I did, it was worse, it was way worse, because you — you were —"

He kept looking at her, willing her to finish.

"You were hurting." The last words were forced out in a whisper. "And I couldn't …"

Lee tried to remember to breathe around a sudden clench in his throat. "Because of Zak?"

Her eyes darted to the gap in the curtains like she was looking for an escape route. Probably, she was. "Yeah. I guess. And because …"

"Because why, Kara?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you, Lee, all right? I don't owe anybody a godsdamned bit of explanation for anything!" Her voice shook dangerously on the last syllables, and she turned away again, breath ragged in the small space.

He watched her for a moment as her shoulders heaved, as she gasped, as she fought to draw air into her lungs. It contrasted so vividly with the picture of Kara in his dream, the way her whole face had lit up when she smiled, when she laughed, when she wrestled with Will. He wanted to see her that happy again, wanted to transport them directly to that planet, wherever it was.

"Hey. Kara." With effort he extended his left arm again, reaching toward her as much as he could. "Come here. All right?"

Her shoulders merely stiffened. No response.

"Kara, I can't come to you. Please."

Almost reluctantly she turned, started walking toward the bed. Close to, he could see delicate tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Hey. Hey. Come here. Come on." He kept holding out his arm, even though his strength was fading, the renewed effort costing him. But he didn't care. This was important.

Kara leaned down on his uninjured side, cupping her hand behind his head even as he wrapped his good arm around her. It was a crude version of a hug, and a pale imitation of the embrace that Lee, at least, longed for. But he was pressed to her, his head against her shoulder, her breath swift in his ear, and less than a day ago he'd believed he would never feel all of this again. That he could have her back now, even for just a moment, seemed like far more than he deserved. Lee wasn't going to complain. He wasn't going to question. He simply wanted to breathe her in, over and over and over.

"Lee —" she whispered.

"Shhh." He traced slow circles on her back, through her hair. "I love you, Kara. I know what happened and I don't care. I don't care. It wasn't your fault."

"Lee, _don't_." Her grip on him tensed, like she wanted to crawl right into his skin. He knew the feeling.

"Let me say this. Please just let me say this." Lee took a deep breath, as deep as he could, pushing through the medications and the pain and especially the fatigue. They had come to the reason he had endured, the reason he'd fought so hard, the reason he'd resisted the ocean for so long. "I almost died, Kara. It's not pretty and it's not nice to imagine, but there it is. And all I could think about when I was lying in that bar was how much it was going to completely gut me to leave you behind. I couldn't picture existing somehow and not having you be a part of that. Now I'm here. I'm okay, I made it back. I have a second chance and I know exactly what I want to do with it. I want you, and I want Will. I _need_ —" He paused, emotion momentarily overtaking him, trying to figure out if he really meant to say this. He decided that he did. "I need you. That's all. I need you."

It was almost certainly a calculated risk, talking like that. Memories of Colonial Day were still fresh in his mind, and he had no guarantee, none, that Kara wouldn't simply run off again. Lee knew she was scared. He'd seen it in the vulnerability she had just shown him, a vulnerability that was so rarely on display. But he couldn't regret what he'd said. There was no more room for regrets.

"I hurt you, Lee." She kissed him, nuzzled his neck, and his eyes slid shut in appreciation. "And there is nothing to say it won't happen again. I can't keep … watching you like this. Watching you get hurt."

"It wasn't your fault," Lee repeated, because he couldn't think of anything else to say, and he was _so tired_ and he desperately wanted them to stay like this.

"The hell it wasn't!" Kara's voice was ragged, sharp, broken glass in each word. "I _shot_ you!"

"I dived in front of Page," he objected. "Was that your fault too?"

"Stop trying to bullshit me." In her eyes was another plea, and perhaps the last bastions of sanity — or maybe _insanity_.

"I'm not." It was the absolute truth, as was what he said next. "I don't have time for that anymore."

Kara kept looking at him, cradled as he was in her arms, and even though _he'd_ gazed at _her_ like that plenty of times, he could not remember the look being returned. It seemed like an invisible barrier had fallen, was falling, was about to fall. The intensity of her eyes on his did weird things to his stomach, like he'd missed a step going downstairs. Lee decided he didn't mind. He decided he didn't mind at all.

Then.

She bent close, skimmed her nose across his, drew in a breath.

"Lee …"

Her voice gentle, none of _Starbuck_ and all of _Kara_.

"Lee, I love you."

There was fear in her eyes as she said it, and he understood why, and he vowed to himself that he would talk to her about it later, that he would acknowledge what it had cost her to say those words. But for now, just for now, he had to be selfish. He had to enjoy it. It could be, might be, _was_ , the first step on the road to that field of his dream, where they were just themselves.

Kara, and Lee, and Will.

A family.

He squeezed her, kissed her, ignored the pain.

The universe was, for one singular moment, perfect.


	36. Chapter 36

Things were better after that.

Kara would never have gone so far as to call them _perfect_ , because nothing was ever perfect and it paid to remember that. But she felt liberated, like she'd been carrying around a heavy load and only just noticed as it became conspicuous by its absence. The guilt was still there. She knew enough about guilt to understand that a portion of it always would be. It was in the background, and it flared hot at certain moments, like when Cottle and Ishay did the first bandage change with Lee awake, and he asked her to stay. She'd wanted to leave, had babbled something stupid and silly about privacy and modesty and the rest of it (patently ridiculous, as Kara had seen all of him before and they both knew it), but the look in his eyes stopped her. He was genuinely afraid. Of what, she didn't know — the pain, probably — and she wasn't going to ask the question, not right there with people listening. That was one thing about sickbay: there were _always_ other people listening, watching, on alert. Reflecting on this, Kara was amazed that Cottle had left her alone long enough for Lee to visit her that first night after her return from the moon, never mind that they'd likely conceived Will right under the cantankerous doctor's nose. Possibly the amount of supervision increased in proportion to the severity of the injury. It made sense.

But she couldn't say no to staying once Lee had pinned her with that glance, so Kara sat by his bedside and tried not to get in the way of the doctor and the medic as they set up their supplies. She tried not to watch when they increased his morpha dose and put extra blankets and heat packs on top of him to keep him as warm and comfortable as possible. There were some things, however, that she couldn't help but notice. Like the way his eyes flashed with momentary panic when Ishay peeled back the right corner of his gown. And the way his grip on her hand tightened almost to bruising as the bandage was carefully removed. If it had been her, Kara would've just told them to rip it off and get things over with, but it wasn't, and Lee needed to take several breaks when the discomfort became too much.

Ishay and Cottle were patient, though, and finally the dressing came off. Kara didn't want to look, couldn't imagine seeing the damage she'd inflicted on him, but it was impossible not to catch a brief glimpse from where she was sitting.

It was both better than she expected, and worse. The wound itself was a raw, ugly, angry line, bisected by jagged black stitches and surrounded with dried blood and deep purple bruising. Kara was intimately familiar with the colours of pain, and she understood how much it must hurt. She would have understood even if it hadn't been for the expression on Lee's face, and his hand in hers. All of his discomfort, the doses of painkillers they had him on, the way he instinctively flinched away when someone approached him, those things were instantly comprehensible. She struggled against guilt that was equally crushing.

Cottle was murmuring comments to Ishay, most of which seemed to be along the lines of how much better the wound looked. Kara shuddered at that; she didn't want to imagine it _worse_ , because it looked pretty horrible to her right now. She supposed that was why she eked out her existence as a pilot rather than a medic. The truth was as frightening as Lee's broken and puckered and bruised skin. Her finger could pull a trigger back, just one tiny, infinitesimal motion, and she could put a hole in him. She could make him hurt, make him bleed, make him cry.

She closed her eyes, nausea overwhelming her for an instant. Seemed like they were passing that particular symptom back and forth.

"Captain, can you hold him?" Cottle's voice was sharp, louder now, directed at her.

Kara blinked her way back to the present. Both medic and doctor were looking at her insistently. Lee's face was gray again, covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and he was breathing like he'd just finished a run.

"What?" she said, because she wasn't paying attention at all; she had eyes only for him.

"Hold him down," Cottle repeated, with the air of someone explaining to an irrational toddler that one and one made two. "We've got to clean it, and I don't want him bouncing all over the bed while we do."

Bile rushed up her throat again. She couldn't think of anything she wanted to do _less_. Keep a grip on Lee while he struggled, while he tried to get away from the pain she'd inflicted? _No._ No, no, no.

But they kept looking at her, just staring, looking, and she imagined Ishay's hands on him, and suddenly wondered if the medic would be gentle, if she would know how to comfort him, what words to whisper, how Lee always relaxed immediately when you stroked the back of his neck. Everything Kara had learned about him in their time together, everything she wouldn't have known if she hadn't been living with him.

Maybe she _was_ the person for this after all, maybe Cottle and Ishay understood what they were doing, but Kara still hated it. She hated that she'd chosen to stay and at the same time couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

The guilt roared back, bright and strong, when they first touched the area around the wound and Lee's entire body clenched, almost arching off the bed, and Kara had to use all the power in her muscles to restrain him. It required everything she had: one hand around his head, the way she'd held him when he vomited, and the other pressed across his torso. (She'd touched his stomach so many times before, run her fingers across it, kissed it, but this was different, different and awful at the same time.) Her legs feeling like they'd been molded to the floor, her spine stiff and unyielding as she pushed against him, forced him back down, and everything about the action was ugly and _wrong_ and she wanted to get in the shower and scrub herself until her own skin came off, for surely that was the penance she deserved.

Once again she let herself feel the guilt. It stabbed her when he looked at her and she could read the plea in his eyes as plainly as though he'd spoken the words: _Make it stop, Kara. Please make it stop._ And then she couldn't bear to see it anymore, so she rested her chin on the top of his head and breathed, raggedly, antiseptic smells filling her nostrils and triggering the nausea again. Kara thought the same words over and over, mouthing them when she could be sure Cottle and Ishay weren't looking.

 _I love you, Lee._

I love you. I love you.

It'll be over soon. It'll all be over soon.

Soon, but not soon enough, not _nearly_ soon enough, because it seemed to take them forever to examine the wound and then to clean it, and even though she'd thought nothing could be worse than the way Lee had looked at her, Kara discovered there _was_ something worse. The minute that jagged, stitched line was touched, he gasped fiercely and then moaned the way he had just after the surgery. It cut her in two, and she was sliced another time a moment later when he did it again.

Kara wasn't sure how she managed to make it through the rest of the procedure. She wasn't sure how either of them came out alive. Surely they should have been too bloodied, too bruised, too _damaged_ to survive. Most of the experience was a haze in her memory, but Lee's grip on her hand and the noises he made and the revulsion she felt at having to restrain him served as a terrible kind of punctuation. She didn't want to do it again, not ever, but at the same time, she wouldn't have trusted anyone else to be there. So Kara remained caught in the cruel dichotomy, and instead of removing herself from the pain it caused her, she clung to that pain, held it like a lifeline, because it was nothing more or less than what she deserved.

Afterward, he asked her to lay her head on the pillow once more, beside him, and she didn't dare refuse.

"Lee, go to sleep," Kara whispered after a few minutes of watching him fight it, his eyes sliding closed and snapping open again as he struggled against the meds they'd administered, the morpha and the sleep stuff, whatever it was called, that was supposed to relax him after the ordeal. She stroked his hair, almost as an afterthought. "You're exhausted. Sleep."

"Don't … feel guilty," he murmured after a beat, his voice blurry, words tripping over one another to get past the drugs. He was nearly as out of it as he'd been a few nights previously. "'S not … fault."

 _Same old Lee._

The thought almost made her smile, because she remembered saying that to him the first time they'd seen each other since Zak's funeral, when the bars of the brig separated them and she had thought Lee Adama to be nothing but a whiner who had the Colonial Fleet regs tattooed across his ass and daddy issues coming out his ears. How things could change, and how profoundly. The specter of Zak still lingered between them, and it probably always would. But now Lee was her best friend, the man she loved, the father of her son, the object of her current guilt. Their relationship was messy, screwed-up, unpredictable, tense … and it was also _life_.

"We talked about that before," she reminded him.

Lee didn't answer at first, and she thought he might finally have fallen asleep, but then the corners of his mouth lifted in that same small, tenuous smile he'd been giving her the last few days. "Why don't you … listen to me, then?"

Kara forced a laugh. "C'mon, since when have I _ever_ listened to you?"

His smile remained. "No better time to … start."

"I'll listen if you'll listen," she said, and at his questioning glance, dropped a kiss on his lips. "Sleep, Apollo. Not that difficult."

He rolled his eyes, but did as she said, and Kara watched him until the lines of discomfort in his face had eased. With her ever-present cloth she wiped some of the sweat from his forehead, pulled the blankets right up to his neck the way she knew he liked. Lee hated being cold now — he said it reminded him too much of lying on the floor of _Cloud Nine_ 's bar — and he'd told her that he would rather wake up hot than freezing. She wasn't sure why, since when he woke up hot he also tended to wake up puking, but she didn't plan on arguing.

She watched him for a while longer, making sure he was really out, and then stood up to go. To her surprise, Cottle accosted her outside the curtain.

"First time's always the hardest," he said gruffly, flicking his cigarette lighter and blowing smoke past her ear. "It'll get easier after this. In fact, once we wean him off most of the heavy drugs, which we've started to do, I'm looking at releasing him in about a week. He won't be fit for duty for a while yet, but he'll be more comfortable continuing his recovery in your quarters than he would be here. You've got a nice big bed, a private head, all the modern conveniences, right?"

Kara nodded, her throat working convulsively. As much as she wanted to have Lee back, to curl up next to him instead of the fake closeness they had now, his being in sickbay had its advantages. If he was hurting, if he started barfing, if something went wrong, a medic or a doctor could be called immediately to come and deal with it. Back in their quarters, that expertise would be far away, practically unreachable. And she had her duties, her classes, CAPs, and Will. How could she take care of Lee too?

"You'll be fine, then," Cottle told her. "And he'll be good as new in no time."

"Thanks, doc," Kara mumbled, and pushed past him. She wanted to hit him, wanted to hit _something_ , but a more pressing need was making itself known.

The same familiar head in which she'd once succumbed to so-called "morning" sickness provided the setting for a similar activity. She had only to think of how Lee had been during the procedure, the way he'd looked at her, and the nausea slammed into her full-force. Kara didn't bother to fight it this time. It was her penance, and no matter what Lee thought, she deserved it.

She would deserve it for a long time.

***

Cottle had at least been right about one thing: Lee did improve, steadily, each day. He still seemed to be in a lot of pain, but the colour was beginning to return to his face, and he didn't spend so much of every day sleeping. This presented a slight conundrum for Kara: she preferred he not be alone, and she sensed _he_ preferred that too, but she was now back on rotations after spending a couple days almost exclusively in sickbay. About all she could do was discreetly ask their closest friends — Helo, Dee and the Old Man primarily — to drop by while she was on shift. She also loaded Lee up with paperwork that he worked on when he felt able, and his father brought him some books to read.

Lee always acted annoyed after the Admiral had been to see him, but Kara suspected that a part of him secretly enjoyed those visits. It meant something to him that for once, Bill Adama was actually behaving like a parent. Their visits were not between Admiral and Captain, but father and son. For so long Lee had been on guard around his dad, apparently afraid to show any sort of weakness, but the fact that he was physically injured seemed to be an equalizer. Sometimes Kara would show up at the tail end of one of Adama's visits and linger outside the curtain, unnoticed by both men and yet easily able to see the bond present. Occasionally they spoke quietly to each other, but what she remembered was the way Adama held his son's hand, never letting go, a tight, sure grip intended to comfort and to say everything the elder could not express in words. Judging by the way Lee looked at his father, the message was being received loud and clear, and it was appreciated.

Lee's reunion with his own son was different. Kara had brought Will to sickbay before, but Lee's situation had been more tenuous medically, and he'd spent most of the time either asleep or in no condition to interact with his son. She knew he wanted to see the baby (he got a funny, kind of longing look on his face whenever Will's name was mentioned), and on his fifth day post-op, he finally got a chance.

She'd picked Will up from childcare a few minutes late, and both of them were cranky — Kara because flight evals were due tomorrow morning and she wasn't sure when she'd get them done, and Will because he'd refused his afternoon nap and was now overtired. Kara stalked through the corridors loaded down with her usual assortment of stuff, glaring at anybody who dared look at her askance, while Will whined to himself in his infant seat. The last thing she needed tonight of all nights was for her son to be exhausted, and she was really beginning to miss Lee's help on the parenting front. It wasn't his fault, but still.

To her amazement, Lee was sitting up in bed when she got to sickbay, a bunch of papers and folders spread across his lap. Kara could do nothing but stop and stare for a moment, before striding through the curtain as usual.

"Looks like someone's feeling better," she remarked, and it wouldn't have been a stretch to call her smile _relieved_.

As was usual, his eyes lit up when he saw her. (Really, Kara thought, that was kind of pathetic. She made a mental note to tease him about it later.) "Yeah, they've started my slow reintegration into civilized society," Lee said. "I'm even off enough meds that I can use big words now."

"Good, are they going to teach you the days of the week next?" Kara winked, and set the complaining infant on the floor.

"No, next up is apparently learning to take in sustenance that isn't delivered through a tube, and getting to the head on my own." He made a face. "Both of which I have to be able to do before I can get the hell out of here."

"Fun." She sorted through her evaluations, trying to prioritize them by pilot. "Did your dad come by today?"

"He did, yeah. Amazing how he's suddenly found all this extra time in his schedule for me. If I'd known that's what it would take, I would make sure to get shot more often. Kidding," Lee added quickly at the look on her face, but there was an undercurrent of bitterness in his tone.

"You'd better be," Kara muttered, barely suppressing a shudder. "Look, Lee, I know this will come as a complete surprise to you, but your father loves you. The whole chip on your shoulder poor-me-I-was-an-unloved-child act doesn't work so well when people know the truth."

"The truth?"

"He freaked the hell out when he ran into the bar after the Marines and saw you lying on the floor. I watched him." She took a steadying sip from her water bottle and let Lee contemplate that. By the look on his face, it had obviously sunk in.

"I guess that explains why he was walking beside the stretcher when they took me out," he said, halfway between surprise and forced neutrality. "Mind you, I was kind of busy not dying to notice much else."

"Right." Kara cleared her throat and turned away; the conversation was fast veering into territory she didn't want to relive. She couldn't decide whether to be thankful or annoyed a couple of seconds later when Will's sounds turned from whiny annoyance to genuine fussing, the kind that wouldn't let up until he was cuddled by one of his parents. "Come on, baby," she murmured with a sigh, scooping him out of the seat and onto her shoulder. "It would really help me if you went to sleep right now, but I guess that's not in the cards, huh?"

Lee was watching these proceedings with interest, and that same longing. "Is he hungry?"

"Nah, just in a piss-poor mood," Kara answered distractedly, massaging her son's back, trying to get him to calm down. "Lacey said he didn't sleep this afternoon, and I was up with him most of the night last night, so he's overtired. She thinks he might be coming down with something, which is just what I need with Tigh on my ass about —"

"Can I?" Lee interrupted, reaching his good arm out, intent clear.

She glanced at him skeptically. "I don't know, _can_ you? He's getting pretty heavy."

"I know, just let me try." He was tacitly pleading now. "You can help me if he starts wiggling around, but I just haven't held him or seen him since …"

"Right," Kara said, not wanting him to complete that sentence. The way Lee looked at their son made the guilt start creeping up behind her again, and she didn't want it to ruin this moment.

She stepped up beside the bed and carefully lowered Will, now silent, toward his father's outstretched arm, until Lee had the infant's full weight resting partially in the crook of his elbow and partially on his chest, Will's head tucked neatly underneath his chin. Kara withdrew her arms once she was sure the baby was secure and just watched them, ready to intervene if it became too much for either of them.

Lee and Will. Her boys.

Helo had called them that the other day, and while at the time she'd nearly punched him for the comment, she couldn't deny that a part of her, a _very_ small part, liked the way it sounded. She'd reamed her friend out just to keep her reputation intact, but afterward, in the shower when she could be sure she was alone, Kara had broken down in laughter. It was the first time she'd laughed, really truly laughed, since the shooting on _Cloud Nine_.

And it had helped. It had helped more than Karl would probably ever know.

Lee was nuzzling the top of his son's head, kissing him, and Will was cooing again, various combinations of sounds that told Kara the infant was content enough to test out his developing language skills. She wondered suddenly if he had missed Lee, if he had known his father wasn't there and so reacted negatively to the difference. Surely babies that young couldn't distinguish the people who fed and cared for them? Or maybe they could. She felt she still didn't know much about kids, despite having one for a few months now.

Will beamed a wide smile in his father's direction, and slapped his small palm against Lee's chest. The latter shuddered a bit, and took a deep breath.

"Is he hurting you?" Kara made to reach for the baby's arm. "Here, I can —"

"No, just … leave him. Please." Lee's eyes slid closed, and he didn't move for almost a full minute.

She was momentarily confused until she saw moisture on his face, not sweat this time but a tear track, and as she watched, another leaked from beneath his closed lid, and he shuddered again, clutching their son more tightly.

Kara felt awkward, unsure how to handle this uncharacteristic display of emotion. He had been different in some ways since she shot him, seemingly more aware of the fragility of both his own life and life in general. They both knew their time was limited and fate was capricious — being a Viper pilot and watching your friends and colleagues get shot out of the sky by toasters continually reinforced the lesson — but Kara had not known what it might really be like to lose Lee until she had pulled that trigger in the bar. He had experienced that from the inside, and he'd told her that all he wanted now was to be a family, though she didn't think he'd ever give up flying. He was too much like her. But the intensity in his eyes when he described carrying on without her had convinced Kara that his near-death experience affected him more deeply than she might guess.

Evidence of that was on full display now.

"Hey," she said softly, enfolding him in as much of an embrace as possible, Will pressed gently between them. "Hey. Lee. It's gonna be okay, you hear me?"

He sagged gratefully into her, released a shaky breath. "Sorry," Lee whispered, and his voice was thick, gravelly.

Kara sighed. "Don't apologize, dammit. Remember what I told you after your spacewalk? Close calls mess with everybody's head once in a while. It'd be stupid if you _weren't_ freaked out."

"I thought …" Lee was tracing small circles on the baby's back, his eyes still closed. "I thought I wouldn't see him again. I want to watch him grow up, know what kind of person he's going to be, and I almost didn't get to do that. And it scared me. It just scared me. That's all."

Under other circumstances she might have made a joke, might have repeated her line about pursuing him into the afterlife so she could kill him herself. But Kara sensed this wasn't the time. Instead she drifted her hand across his cheek, wiping away his tears as they fell, letting him be, letting him feel what he needed to feel. He'd always done the same for her, even when she hadn't wanted him to. Even Will seemed to sense the seriousness of the moment, and while the kid babbled and pawed at them occasionally, he mostly kept silent, apparently as glad to have his dad back as Lee was to see him.

Kara let her own eyes close to extend a short call to the gods.

 _Lords, please grace your son, Lee Adama, with the good fortune to see his child live a long life._

The dual meaning in the prayer pleased her.

***

"I ate real food today!" Lee announced.

Kara blinked, blinked again, and abruptly burst into loud guffaws, cackling so hard she could barely keep a grip on everything she was holding. She couldn't help it — he had such a big goofy smile on his face, and that combined with what he'd said made the situation inherently hilarious.

"What?" he demanded. "It's not _funny_!"

"Just the way you said it," she replied, fighting back more chuckles. "You sound so damn proud of yourself, Lee."

"I am," he told her, and Kara roared with laughter. This time, Lee joined in.

Gods, she was glad to see him smile, be happy. She was glad to recognize the same emotions in herself.

It was two days later, and she'd just arrived in sickbay for what they had both started to call the "evening shift." Typically Kara would spend the early night hours by Lee's bedside, keeping him company and attending to whatever he needed, working on paperwork and caring for Will, whom she always brought with her now. It was a pale imitation of the kind of domesticity they usually shared in their quarters, but it was something, and under the circumstances, she felt thankful for small favours. Lee seemed to be recovering emotionally as well as physically after his outburst of before, which he'd acted embarrassed about until she assured him she understood, and that they didn't have to discuss it if he didn't want to. He appeared relieved at this.

"So, will I come in here tomorrow and hear you announce to the entire sickbay that you're not pissing through a tube anymore?" Kara grinned.

He blushed. "Only _you_ would announce that," Lee muttered.

"Yeah, probably." She punched his left arm, lightly. "Seriously though, when's the big trip to the head? That's the second thing you have to do before they spring you, right?"

"Why, are you planning on selling tickets?" He snorted.

"Now there's a thought," Kara teased, just for the pleasure of watching him go red again. "Nah, I just want to be here when you take your first walk. You do owe me, you know."

" _I_ owe _you_?" Lee said.

"Yeah, for hopping around on my crutches and teasing me when I had my bum knee, and for informing me in great detail of all the ways you were going to frak me once I got out of sickbay."

"Well, you have to admit, it worked." He looked a little smug.

"And what about you standing outside the head after I'd just shoved an eight-pound kid out of my insides and asking me 'how it was going'? _Loudly_ , I might add." It was Kara's turn to snort. "Like I said, turnabout is fair play, Apollo."

"You're going to have to wait until tomorrow to laugh at me, then." Lee shifted from his sitting position to lean back against his pillows. "Doc says one milestone per day is enough, and right now I'm inclined to agree with him."

"Aww, I won't laugh at you." She stood, instinctively recognizing what was needed, and supported him carefully with one hand while rearranging the pillows with the other. "Tease you, maybe. Snicker behind my hand, absolutely. But laugh? I'm wounded, Lee. You know me."

"That's what I'm talking about." But he chuckled, which had been her original intent, and then curled into her, so Kara paused for a moment to embrace him, to kiss the top of his head and breathe in deeply. He didn't smell like himself — the scent was foreign and sterile and medical — and she suddenly couldn't wait to get him back to their quarters, back to whatever passed for home, and back to normal again.

"I'm just messing with you," Kara murmured, her hand coming down to stroke his cheek. "You know that, right?"

"I know it, Kara." Lee's lips caught her palm, and the ensuing kiss was satisfying and tantalizing for both of them. "If you _weren't_ messing around I'd wonder what the hell was wrong."

She decided she wanted more, and reciprocated with her mouth on his, her tongue darting out to lick at him. He broke the kiss after a moment with a satisfied sigh, leaning in to nuzzle her neck.

"Love you, Lee," she whispered, and felt him grin against her.

Somehow, each time she said it … it got just a little easier.


	37. Chapter 37

Lee was released from sickbay three days later, once he'd proven he could (mostly) get around on his own, and that he could survive without the strong intravenous painkillers they'd had him on before. He still had pain pills to take until the wound healed completely, and physical therapy sessions to complete before he would be cleared for duty again, but he was undeniably better, and tired of being trapped in sickbay with monitors and beeping and no privacy whatsoever.

Kara still felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement about his return to their quarters, though she successfully kept those thoughts to herself. He was so happy to finally see something other than the four walls of sickbay that she didn't have the heart to point out the additional challenges he would now encounter. Lee was not, for instance, looking forward to physical therapy, despite knowing it was also the only way he'd get back in the air. He cited the fact that it sounded far too repetitive and dull to be worth the time. Kara suspected there was more to it than that, since he still didn't like to move his shoulder unless it was absolutely necessary. But she didn't say anything; she had a few ideas on how to make that more fun for him.

She continued the policy of having their friends come in to check on him while she was on shift, mostly for her own peace of mind, as he wasn't completely immobile. Getting out of bed in the morning, showering and dressing himself, and getting back into bed at night were by far the most difficult, and those she could help with. In fact, when it came to the shower part, Kara didn't mind at all.

There were benefits for her there, too.

At first she had resisted intimacy, worrying she might hurt him despite the numerous ways in which he tried to interest her in resuming that part of their relationship. Whenever he made advances, she would kiss him quickly on the cheek, or dart playfully away, or sometimes even flat-out tell him that she didn't want to hurt him. Kara desired him as much as he did her — it had been too long, _again_ — but she had only to conjure up the way he'd looked in sickbay, white-faced and crying out from pain. It was an effective deterrent.

Lee had finally grown tired of the bait-and-switch approach after a few days, and one night in the shower as she was helping him wash, he told her frankly that all he wanted now, what he was _desperate_ for, was to have someone touch him in a way that didn't hurt and wasn't clinical. He hadn't experienced that for so long. He wanted her hands to caress him, to roam his body the way she was so expert at doing, he wanted her to make him gasp not in pain but out of pleasure, he wanted his body to work for him rather than against him.

That, combined with the pleading look in his eyes, was finally Kara's undoing. How could she deny him this, how the _hell_ could she deny him, when she was part of the reason he felt that way? So she had taken the washcloth from his hand, allowing a smile to spread across her face, and dropped to her knees. But instead of just washing him like she'd been doing, she trailed the cloth over the insides of his thighs, and up, caressing and stroking and tugging and cupping, until his breath was coming quickly and his eyes slid closed as her tongue traced every ridge and vein of his length.

She kissed it then, right at the base, nose pressed to wiry hair for a moment, before moving slightly downward and kissing again, sucking where she'd kissed, and at the same time her _other_ hand came up and trailed lightly over his balls to the underside of his cock … she was rubbing him, _rubbing_ him, on that spot she knew drove him wild, but before he could so much as gasp Kara had kissed down to the tip and taken him in her mouth. Her _mouth_ … he didn't think there was enough blood left in his body to harden him any further, but he swelled again, and she grinned around him. It only took a couple of sucks, and just the hint of teeth, for him to spill over a little.

"Kara, I —"

"Shhh." She released him with a grin, standing languidly and pressing her index finger to his lips. He could smell himself on her, and he had to take another deep breath. "I know, Lee. I know."

And she did, she did, because they'd had this conversation so many times before that further words were unnecessary. His back touched the shower wall and the injured shoulder stung for a sharp moment, but Lee no longer cared. Kara's leg insinuated itself between them and she arched up on her toes and took him swiftly inside, tight and wet and _oh_.

This was better than the dream, better because it was _real_.

He let her do all the work, squeezing and contracting along him with gentle motions. White-hot pleasure spiraled in his stomach and coiled like a spring. He didn't have long — there was no way, not with what she was doing to him — but she hadn't come yet — he needed to hold on — but he couldn't — he _couldn't_ —

"Lee." Kara's hands were on both of his cheeks, forcing his eyes open. She was looking at him with a tiny smile on her face, playful and understanding at the same time. "Let go."

"But you — you're not even —" _Close_ , he wanted to say. _You're not even close_. What came out instead was a strangled grunt as she slid up and down his length, torturously slowly.

"I owe you one. All right?" Her eyes strayed to his shoulder.

"That's — it's not —" Lee _had_ had a cogent argument, but he couldn't remember at the moment what it was.

Kara winked. "Think with your dick for once, Adama. Come on."

She punctuated her words by drawing him off the shower wall and into her arms, changing the angle and allowing Lee to plunge deeper, faster. His chin came to rest on her shoulder; he couldn't hold it up anymore.

"You — fight — dirty, Thrace," he gasped.

"Yup," Kara said proudly. Her hands found his back and scored lightly across the skin, not nearly as hard as she might usually have touched him, but it was still enough to send a shudder rippling through his frame. She did it again, again, shredding the remains of his self-control until only one choice was left to him.

Kara watched his face as he came, reveling in the way his features smoothed as tension and desperation vanished, to be replaced by unvarnished pleasure. She held him close while he panted out short huffs of breath in her ear, perfectly in tune with the hot wet pulsing inside her. One particularly loud grunt followed an especially long pulse, and Kara grinned, flicking out her tongue to lick at sweat and shower water dripping on his neck.

"Mmm," Lee managed, beginning to soften, but not otherwise showing any desire or inclination to move.

She laughed, kissed him again, enjoyed the shower spray still pounding down on them despite the fact that it was turning cold. The washcloth had disappeared; probably it was languishing somewhere around their feet.

"Love you so much," he whispered, and then stiffened a little, breath hissing through his teeth.

"Sore?" Kara asked softly, wincing a bit at his small nod. "Frak, I'm stupid, I shouldn't have —"

"I seduced you," Lee pointed out, and attempted a leer, which earned him only a confused stare in response. Good boys like Lee didn't leer very well. "And it was worth it." He pulled back to lean against the shower wall, wincing once more. "Shit, it's cold in here."

That comment reminded her, unpleasantly, of how fragile he still was, and Kara decided it was high time to get him tucked up in their bed with a couple of pain pills. Lee had told her before that he disliked the spacey feeling they gave him, but they also seemed to help, and she hated seeing him in pain so much that she would've force-fed him the medication if necessary. Kara wasn't used to this new protective streak — she felt somewhat accustomed to it with Will, but not with Lee — but she had learned to keep the guilt at bay by following its dictates.

He didn't stop smiling, though, not as she helped him dry off, pull on a pair of sweatpants and affix a new bandage to the wound, nor when he lowered himself carefully to the mattress and into bed, or when he swallowed water with the pills. Kara spooned up behind him, and she basked in that smile.

It wasn't the same as having him whole and well and flying with her once more. But for now, it could be enough.

***

At night, they talked.

Neither Kara nor Lee could have said how it got started. They knew only that very quickly, it became a routine, something to be expected and looked forward to at the end of a long day. Kara would turn off all the lights in their quarters but one — the bedside lamp — and climb into bed beside him, sliding their son gently between them. With Lee still incapacitated to a degree, she'd started to bring Will into their bed, reasoning that it was easier to feed and care for him in the middle of the night if she didn't have to go so far. (Lee, laughing, pointed out that the other side of the bedroom was hardly "far," but Kara glared at him so fiercely for that that he shut up immediately.) The infant seemed to like the extra proximity to his parents, and Lee in particular relished the opportunity for closeness with his son. The only thing the new arrangement curtailed was intimacy, but once the initial heady time of Lee's return from sickbay had passed, both found that they didn't have much energy for sex anyway. _Cuddling_ was almost better, in any case, and at times Kara couldn't believe that was her attitude now. Other times, she was just too tired to care.

Sometimes they talked about Will. Sometimes those conversations led in other directions, past directions, subjects they'd never really discussed before.

"I love that thing he does right before he goes to sleep," Lee murmured one night, softly stroking the baby's hand. "That little twitch, like he has to wake himself up once before he can drop off."

"Yeah," she said. "I guess I never really noticed that before."

"It's kind of amazing, you know. You carried him around for nine months while he grew. He went from being something you couldn't even see, to being a tiny little person. And one day he'll turn into a big person like us. But we made him. Without you and without me, he wouldn't exist."

"He might not have existed anyway," Kara pointed out. "I mean, gods, you were supposed to be my brother, Lee."

"Brother-in-law," he amended.

"Still." She looked away for a moment. "Isn't that weird to you sometimes?"

Lee played with one of Will's toes. A minute ticked by, and then another.

"All the time," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "All the time."

Will cooed softly, and Kara absently stroked her son's stomach, bending to kiss the top of his head.

"You know, it's stupid," she began, still not looking directly at Lee. "Two years ago I thought I might have this. I thought I might be serving on some battlestar, with a … partner, maybe we'd have a kid. All the shit I'd never really wanted, the stuff I promised myself I wouldn't get involved in. Because I'm a screw-up, and because I don't … trust myself, and all the other crap. I never got deep with anybody, deep enough to make promises, until I met your brother. Incurable frakking romantic. He was trying to turn me into one too."

"That's not stupid at all," Lee replied quietly.

"And what's so weird is I _have_ that stuff now, the stuff I figured I'd get with Zak … except it's with you."

He said nothing for a long while. She couldn't read the expression on his face, and for a time Kara thought she must have said the wrong thing, offended him somehow, dredged up things he'd rather not remember. Of course, she'd never known when to leave well enough alone and keep her mouth shut.

"Do you ever think about him?" Kara persisted when he still hadn't answered her.

Lee's chest rose and fell in a single deep inhalation, the kind that covered pain and grief not yet healed, pain and grief that might never heal.

"I'm always thinking about him, Kara." His gaze was faraway. "You want to talk about stupid stuff — I mean, he's been gone for almost three years now and I still catch myself going, 'Oh, I should tell Zak about that' or 'Oh, Zak will bust a gut laughing when he finds out what Dad said the other day.' Or sometimes Will does something and I think, 'I remember when Zak used to do that too.' And then I come back to reality and it's like I'm finding out he's dead all over again. Like somebody's punching me in the stomach and they won't ever stop. I remember exactly where I was the day I found out. I remember the clothes I was wearing. I remember what I'd eaten for lunch because I puked it all up as soon as I hung up the phone. The guy who called me, who told me, was my drill sergeant first year at the Academy. And I was so weirded-out because he actually started crying over the phone, and this was a man who I'd never imagined crying. _Ever_. He didn't cry."

She let him talk, even though he was killing her, even though each word stabbed her. Lee was right. It really was like finding out all over again.

"And you know, you … you go crazy a little." His voice grew ragged, and he paused for several moments. Kara snaked her hand across Will to find Lee's fingers, and squeeze them. "For one whole week I couldn't stop picturing things. Really horrible things, like the crash, the fireball, what happened to his body, what was — what was the final thought in his mind. I know he was excited about getting his wings and taking that first flight, but … what did he feel when he climbed into that plane? What was the final, final thing?"

Silence. In the darkness, she blinked the tears from her eyes.

"I tried not to imagine that stuff," Kara told him. "If I did, I would've eaten my gun before the funeral."

"I couldn't _not!_ " Lee's voice was harsh and desperate, though not loud enough to wake their son. "He was my baby brother, Kara! I loved him, I was the only one in my whole frakking family who loved him! I loved him for who he was, not for who I wanted him to be. He was the only person who really understood what it was like to live in Dad's shadow, to be an Adama. And at the same time, I brought him up. I raised him as best I could and I … half the time I had _no_ idea what I was doing, but I just tried — I _tried_ —"

His shoulders heaved, and again she felt helpless, but in a different way. This wasn't like his reunion with Will. Kara couldn't just dash off some snappy line meant to comfort, because so many of these things were what _she_ had grappled with for three years. She loved Lee. But she had loved Zak too, deeply, differently. She would always love Zak. A very significant part of her would always wish that he hadn't died, hadn't vanished in that fireball that was partially her fault, even though she wouldn't have Will (and Lee, and Lee) if Zak was alive. Of all the phrases she knew, _what might have been_ was the most tantalizing, the saddest.

She could only say carefully, "I didn't mean to bring it up."

Lee stared at the ceiling, but his hand squeezed hers. "It's fine, it's … not like I don't think about all this stuff anyway."

"So do I."

For the first time since they'd started talking, he looked her in the eye. "Do you ever wonder what he'd say if he could see us? You know … _this_." Lee gestured vaguely at their quarters, at Will next to them.

"You mean us together?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

"I don't know, Lee. Honestly … if he was here, I wouldn't be with you, and I think you know that."

"You'd choose him." It was a neutral statement, not an accusation.

Kara paused, struggling to put what she felt into words. Gods, she really wasn't good at this talking thing, but he seemed to like it, so she'd try. "It's not even a choice, all right? I knew him before I'd ever met you. I loved him. I was going to marry him. That's it."

"But if he stepped off a Raptor tomorrow, on the hangar deck. Let's just say that happened. He steps off a Raptor and you know you're living with me and we've got Will. What would you do?"

"I can't answer that, Lee. First of all, it _isn't_ going to happen. It just isn't, no matter how much we might want it to. And I can't … choose. What I want is for Zak not to have died. If that hadn't happened, I _wouldn't_ have this. But I wouldn't give a crap, because I wouldn't even know this was a possibility."

She didn't stop to ponder whether what she'd just said made sense. Lee would have to figure it out on his own, if it didn't.

Lee's breathing was growing slower, deeper, and Kara knew his pills were likely taking effect. Probably good, as they both needed to sleep — Kara because she had early CAP tomorrow, and Lee was scheduled for his first physical therapy appointment in the afternoon. Still, she stroked his arm, gently, languidly, feeling muscles and tendons and soft hair. He was so warm. That was one thing about sleeping in the same bed as somebody else: you never got cold.

"I don't want Will to be a pilot," Lee said suddenly.

She blinked, incomprehension surrounding her for a moment. "Uh, I think he's a little young for that yet, Lee. Shouldn't we wait until he can walk before we start figuring out his future career?"

"You know what I mean." His voice was foggy, distant, but the look he leveled at her was serious and uncompromising. "I don't want him out there. I don't want Cylons shooting at him. I don't want him watching his friends explode. He shouldn't have to see the things that I've seen."

Kara understood and shared that sentiment — she had even expressed it before — but one small part of it bothered her. "What if it's what he wants?"

Lee's answer was just as fervent. "He shouldn't ever think it's an obligation because of his last name, that's all. Just because he's an Adama —"

" _And_ a Thrace," she interrupted.

"— doesn't mean he should feel pressured to be something he's not. One of my father's favourite things to say to Zak and I was, 'A man's not a man until he wears the wings of a Viper pilot.' Gods, if I had a cubit for every time he told us that …"

"Lee, you're not your dad," Kara reminded him.

"If I ever start forgetting that … if I act like him …"

She punched him, gently. "I'll kick your ass."

Lee grinned and caught her hand, pulling her over for a lingering kiss as Will's soft snores whispered between them.

***

Kara begged off her maintenance shift early the next afternoon, despite the fact that she knew Lee would be annoyed with her. He'd told her not to come to sickbay with him, that he could take care of himself, and that she shouldn't worry. But she couldn't help it. She'd seen the trepidation in his eyes that morning before she left to take Will to childcare. He might have been able to hide it around strangers, but Kara knew. And some part of her couldn't — _couldn't_ — leave him to face this alone. Especially since she was half the reason he even needed physical therapy in the first place.

She arrived a few minutes before the appointment was supposed to be over, lingering where neither Cottle nor Lee could see her. If he was completely okay (doubtful, but possible), Kara figured she'd just slink away and he'd never be any the wiser. But if not … she needed to be there. Needed to help. Just as much for her own sake as for his.

He looked exhausted. Well, no wonder: this was the most physical activity he'd undertaken since the shooting, leaving aside short walks around sickbay and their quarters, and Kara knew from her experience at the Farm that it didn't take all that long for a human body to lose fitness. Of course, it was difficult for her to get a clear idea of when said fitness could be reliably said to have returned. She hadn't needed physical therapy, but she _had_ gone hiking around on Kobol for a couple days only shortly after breaking out of the old mental hospital. It wasn't exactly a standard timeline.

Lee wasn't doing anything nearly that strenuous, but he certainly didn't seem comfortable, or happy. The doc was making him raise his right arm, flexing and extending the fingers of that hand, curling them into a fist, reaching behind his back. He wasn't reacting visibly to the activities, but Kara could see pain in the clench of his jaw, the tension of his body, the beads of sweat gathering on his face. She sucked in a breath, watching him wince a little as Cottle pulled his arm back. After holding it there for several seconds, Cottle released him and they spoke quietly for a moment. Lee was then left alone, to slump in his chair and draw one arm across his forehead.

Kara stepped up behind him, one hand coming to land softly on his good shoulder. "Torture over, Apollo?"

"Kara, what the hell are you doing here?" He sounded out of breath. "You were on maintenance — I scheduled you for that shift myself —" Lee tried to sit up in his chair to twist around and look at her, but the shoulder wouldn't cooperate, and he snapped back to his previous position with a small gasp.

"Hey, easy." Carefully she wrapped her arms around him, steadying him as he shook slightly. "Come on, Lee, you really think I was gonna let you go this one alone? Chief's covering my shift. I would've walked out on it even if he hadn't offered."

"Tigh will kill you," Lee warned, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Frak Tigh," Kara said cheerfully. Then she paused. "Actually, on second thought, I could do without the mental image there, so let's not and say we did."

"You are insane," he muttered, though he was smiling.

She grinned. "Insanity's underrated. Anyway, we can fight about this later. Right now there's a bed and two pills with your name on 'em. Come on."

"That would require getting up," Lee complained, but eventually he allowed her to haul him to his feet, one hand around his waist as she'd done when he was originally released from sickbay. He wasn't nearly as shaky now, but caution seemed warranted anyway. They stopped at the hatch for some last-minute instructions from Cottle (return same time tomorrow, stretch out and exercise the shoulder as much as possible to keep it flexible) and then were on their way. She'd seen Lee sigh almost inaudibly at the second of these instructions, and couldn't help grinning — he wouldn't mind so much when he heard some of her ideas to help.

Right now, though, her focus was getting him back to their quarters. Lee had on his stoic public there's-nothing-wrong face, which probably fooled most of the people they passed in the corridors, but once again, Kara could not be counted among them. He was gripping her hand hard enough to bruise, and she was suddenly incongruously reminded of another trip from sickbay, one that had taken place a few days after Will's birth, during which their positions had been reversed. Funny how things worked like that sometimes.

He headed straight for their bedroom as soon as Kara tugged open the hatch to their quarters, and she followed a few moments later with a glass of water and the pills. Lee was curled on his left side, weight off the injured shoulder, staring into space.

"It'll get better," she offered tentatively. "First time's always a bitch, right?"

"Yeah, I just —" He winced, breathing heavily as she helped him sit up. "I guess I just didn't think I'd lose so frakking much, you know? I mean, you lie in a bed for seven godsdamned days and you're … well, let's just say you can forget about passing any fitness tests anytime soon." Lee sounded disgusted with himself.

"I know what you mean, believe me." Kara set the glass on the bedside table and lowered him carefully back down. "I've had to do it four times, and it sucks. It really sucks."

She watched Lee work it out, adding up those times in his head — her original knee injury that took her out of pyramid contention, the broken knee she'd sustained on the desert moon, Will's birth — and coming up one short. He glanced quizzically at her as she crossed to the other side of the bed and climbed in with him.

"When was the fourth time?"

"I got shot on Caprica, remember?" She'd told him the short details, leaving aside her experience at the Farm, a couple days after their return from Kobol. But it had sort of gotten lost once her pregnancy had been confirmed.

"Right." He winced again when she wrapped her arms around him, and his pain stabbed her, as it almost always did. "How long do you have? I mean, before you need to be somewhere else?"

 _As long as it takes_ , Kara wanted to tell him. What she said instead was, "Mmm, an hour, maybe an hour and a half. Your paperwork needs delivering to Tigh, and then I've got to go pick up Will. But in the meantime, you are mine, Apollo." She punctuated her words with a crooked smile, and a kiss to his forehead.

"I'm not very good company," Lee mumbled. "I feel like I have a headache in my shoulder."

"Focus on something else, then," Kara suggested.

"Like what?" Now he just sounded grumpy.

"Like this." She kissed him again, but on the lips this time, slowly, and his initial shock soon dissolved into a languid, passionate response. He might have been tired — Kara knew he was — but that didn't prevent him from taking what was being offered, and a small smile spread across her face when she realized his hands had come up to cradle her cheeks. The first part of her mission had been most decidedly accomplished.

"Uh, Lee?"

"What?" He was tilting her head up to lave at her neck, sucking at the pulse point there.

"You're touching my face," she pointed out casually.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to —"

"No, it's all right." Kara caught his wrist, his right wrist, and moved her eyes from it to his face with clear intent. "It's just that for a guy who's supposed to have a headache in his shoulder, you're getting awfully handsy."

Lee stared for a minute, then blinked. "How did you …?"

"Guess I shouldn't underestimate your desire to get lucky, huh?" She grinned.

"Gods, you should come to my therapy sessions," he said fervently, sounding amazed.

"And what, jerk you off under the table?" Kara guffawed. "Cottle wouldn't know what the hell hit him."

Lee blushed. "No, but seriously, I didn't even notice that I was … I mean, I know you said focus on something else, but —"

"Healing sex solves everything?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Well, not everything," he admitted as he lowered his arm back down, breath hitching in evident discomfort. "It still hurts, but … just not as much when we're, well …"

"Tell you what, Lee." Kara propped herself on her elbows. "Remember those ten arm lift repetitions Cottle wants for tomorrow?"

He grimaced. "I've been trying to _forget_ , actually."

"What would you say if I offered to, ah, _touch_ you once for every one you do? While you're doing them?"

She punctuated her words by sliding a hand over his tanks, down to where they met his sweatpants and stopping at the exact spot where she knew she'd find more than his thigh. They never had much time or energy for sex now, but that didn't mean she couldn't look at him, stare at him, glance at the faint outline of his cock where his pants bunched and stretched over it. Kara knew he saw her watching him, which made the whole thing doubly appealing.

"I'd say you've definitely got yourself a deal," Lee smirked.


	38. Chapter 38

He was aware of her presence even before he woke, her body spooned up behind his, their legs entwined just the way he liked. One of her hands was on his forearm, and the other drifted lazily over his chest, not with any real purpose in mind, just stroking, caressing gently. Lovingly.

Lee kept his eyes closed, savouring the touch, Kara's warm weight, how it felt having her there. The simple pleasures of sleeping beside someone, of waking up next to them in the morning, were vastly undersold, he thought. He hadn't realized how much he could miss that until he didn't have it, until he was imprisoned in that sickbay bed. Then, he'd had only Kara's face on the pillow to remind him, and that was a cruel approximation of the real thing. Granted, she had been quite correct when she said it would have hurt him for her to climb in there — Lee had spent the better part of his first four days in sickbay plotting how best to ensure that nobody touched him again, ever. But when he'd started to heal, he found that he actually craved contact. As he had explained to Kara in the shower, he wanted to be touched in ways that didn't hurt, ways that reminded him his body could still do good things as well as bad. She'd certainly delivered on that desire.

As she had every day that he'd needed to do physical therapy. Lee doubted he would have been recertified for light duty as quickly without her "assistance." The only inconvenient part was Cottle's amazement at how rapidly he'd progressed. The doc was constantly pressing Lee to share the secret of his success, which the latter was most reluctant to do. How could he explain that a significant part of his therapy had involved a dogged gym hatch and Kara's hands (and mouth) on a very sensitive part of his anatomy as he did lift repetitions and light weights? He couldn't, not really. So he settled for saying that he'd always been a quick healer, to which Cottle replied that if he was any quicker, the doctor would suspect him of being a Cylon.

Kara's snickers and winks and sidelong glances during the sickbay sessions she attended didn't exactly help matters. She didn't stoop to her original suggestion of jerking him off under the table, but her presence, and the fact that his body had subconsciously begun to associate physical therapy with getting off, created far more embarrassment for Lee than he'd anticipated. She knew she was having an effect on him, too, and gleefully exploited that fact. Mostly said exploitation involved lounging casually in a chair while he worked and bombarding him with innuendo-laden commentary, such as, "That lift looked pretty _hard_ " and "You're doing so well, we'd better be careful you don't get a swollen _head_." Lee would glare (simultaneously trying to keep the blush off his face and his arousal manageable), Kara would grin, and Cottle would roll his eyes and pronounce them both mentally subnormal. Lee had a nasty feeling that the doc probably knew far more than he let on, though.

There was no denying the therapy had helped, so on the whole he was grateful to Kara, thankful that she'd stuck by him and refused to leave, even when he'd tried to shut her out. He was still wary of people seeing his vulnerability, knowing he had weaknesses, and he didn't share the true hardships of his recovery with anyone but Kara. Even that had taken some work. But she was nothing if not persistent, and the fact that they lived together meant he couldn't hide what he was feeling, whether he was having a good day (where he thought he could even climb into his Viper and fly CAP) or a bad one (where he wanted to stay in bed all day and sleep away the pain with her arms curled protectively around him). At first, the bad days were much more frequent than the good. She was a stern taskmaster, though, probably even more than that Academy drill sergeant he'd told her about, and she never hesitated to let him know when she thought he was being lazy and should shape up. But she could also be incredibly tender and understanding, willing to let him take a break when she sensed he'd truly had enough.

Now, he was recertified, off meds and judged able to perform light tasks. Including the latest mission his father had handed down. Lee just wished he felt better. Usually he could tell what kind of day it was going to be before he even opened his eyes, and this one already left something to be desired. At least Kara would be going with him. In fact, she was the reason for the mission, the Old Man having decided that her flight instructor expertise would be of significant use on the _Pegasus_.

He pressed closer, leaning into her, and sighed as she nuzzled the back of his neck. Her hand hadn't stopped moving, but it stilled now.

"Hurts?" The question was whispered.

"Mmm," Lee murmured, adding just enough downward inflection to make his response negative. "Feels nice. Really nice."

He rolled onto his back, the shoulder demanding movement, and pillowed his head on her chest, listening to her heart beating its slow staccato rhythm. She slipped a hand protectively over his while her other arm resumed its slow massage, her chin coming to rest on top of his head. Here in the cocoon of her embrace, the ocean on _Cloud Nine_ seemed a million miles away. He felt safe. Warm. Loved.

Lee breathed deeply. "Did you turn the alarm off?"

"Yup. We've got a half hour, and I even put the kid in his crib after the last feeding." Her lips quirked upwards. "Feel like one for the road, Major?"

He allowed a grin to spread across his face at her use of his new rank. The promotion had come unexpectedly, but it was not unwelcome, the Admiral letting him know on the heels of a particularly difficult medical week. Lee had just gotten his stitches out and was being weaned off the pills, with the result that he'd turned surly and was very difficult to be around. Even Kara had lost her temper with him on a couple occasions. He'd felt badly about that, but didn't know how to make things right, didn't know how to explain to her that his body was starting to get like a prison again, and he was beginning to despair that he'd ever return to "normal." It wasn't that the rank itself mattered to him so much — in fact, if asked, Lee would have said honestly that it didn't — but rather what it represented: not only the renewed trust placed in him by his father and superior officer, but the reassurance that he would come back and fly again and do all the things he'd done before. Of course, he doubted that was why the Old Man had done it. But it meant something nonetheless, and it had given him the strength he needed to carry on, to endure.

"Don't I outrank you now, _Captain?_ " Lee chuckled.

"So what, you're going to start taking lessons from Tigh? Superior Assholes 101? How to Be a Prick in Three Easy Steps?"

"Nah, I wouldn't want to be responsible for you landing in hack again." He poked her, gently. "Although they probably have nicer digs on the _Pegasus_. Better food, you know."

"Still hard to get off with glass in the way," Kara pointed out. "Which reminds me …"

Lee submitted to a grin as she climbed over him, intent clear, and she smiled back when he caught her arms and tugged her down for a kiss. After that, he thought only in _feelings_ … _warm, tight, hot, good, wet, more_ … and let Kara wash away his residual aching. It was even better now that she was allowing herself to participate, and not refraining from her own pleasure out of some misguided belief that she owed him something. He'd never wanted intimacy between them to be about debts being paid. Nor did he feel Kara was at fault for the _Cloud Nine_ incident, though he knew she did. He knew the shooting had dredged up some long-buried emotions for her, many of them having to do with Zak. But she hadn't run. She hadn't fled.

That was a credit to how much she'd grown. How much they _both_ had grown, since the start of their relationship.

Kara rode him languidly, slowly, tenderly, until they both collapsed boneless and sated. Afterward she embraced him again, her eyes hooded and soft, but serious.

"How you feel?"

"After that?" Lee winked and smirked, pretending flippancy, but Kara wasn't fooled.

"Really," she said.

Almost involuntarily his left hand came up to cradle the shoulder, rotating it experimentally, newly-knitted muscle and skin protesting as they were stretched. "Really, not great. But Cottle's given me the thumbs-up, thanks to you, and it's been over a month. So I guess it's back to work."

"Yeah." Kara was still watching him, the way she sometimes did now, compassionately and with a relief that suggested she just felt glad he was there. Lee knew that feeling. "I just want to make sure you're up for this, that's all. Even light duty's not so light these days."

"It's not like I have a choice," he reminded her. "I won't be flying combat for a while, so the Admiral has to put me somewhere. Give me something to do."

"You mean, keep loudmouth, disobedient frak-up Kara Thrace in line?" She grinned. "Yeah, sounds like you."

"Hey, it's not my fault you and Commander Garner can't see eye-to-eye. Dad wants me as a human shield in case you two start chucking shit at each other in CIC."

"It's not my fault Garner's an arrogant paranoid son of a bitch," Kara fired back. "Besides, if I have to bring along somebody to keep me in line, I'd prefer it be you."

"Why, because we live together?"

"And sleep together." Her smile was wicked now. "You don't take my side, you don't get laid, Major."

"Maybe the Old Man should've picked somebody else, then," Lee teased. "I'm too biased."

Kara's hand came up to cradle his cheek, and he got lost for several moments in kissing her. "Biased in a good way," she murmured against his lips. "But then, you always have been."

"Mmm," he nodded, and they roamed each other's bodies with their hands, drawing out more minutes of bliss, of closeness and companionship, before Kara gave him a last kiss on his nose and pulled back to climb out of bed.

"You gonna take a shower?" she asked with her head half inside the small closet, rummaging for towels and clothing.

He sniffed himself experimentally. "Nah, it can probably wait until tonight. Right now I just want to be lazy and stay in bed until we have to head down to the mess hall." Lee offered a crooked smile.

"Fair enough." Kara raised her voice to carry from the other room as she walked. "I'll have to remind you of that when you're falling down exhausted after your first day back."

"I'm sure you will."

She reappeared then holding a bottle. "Meantime, you can make yourself useful and feed your kid. I've gotta get ready, pack."

"I think I can handle that." Lee looked over to the crib, where his son was watching him with wide, curious eyes. Will's face split into a grin as soon as he realized he had his dad's attention, and he thumped his feet on the mattress with a squeal.

"Get ready for a big trip, baby," Kara murmured as she lifted him. To Lee she said, "I don't think he's been on _Pegasus_ , has he?"

"Nope. Baby's first battlestar." Lee rolled his eyes. "That's how my father would see it."

"Well, unless you count the Bucket," she pointed out, swapping Will's soiled diaper for a clean one. "That's what they call _Galactica_ now. _Pegasus_ is the Beast."

"The Bucket and the Beast?" He snorted. "So what, today we're going into the belly of the Beast?"

"Guess so." Kara strode over to the bed. "Sounds kind of like a bad adventure novel, huh?"

"Yeah." Lee reached his arms out and accepted Will, setting him gently on the blanketed cradle of his raised knees. From this position he could use his good arm to feed the baby and his legs for support, so the shoulder wouldn't be strained. His son's attention wasn't on him, though — Will kept looking toward Kara, quizzically, as she handed over the bottle.

She smiled down at them. "I'm gonna hop in the shower for a few, if you don't mind. You'll have better luck making him take that bottle if the real thing isn't around anyway."

"What, he wants you?"

"Yeah, I wonder where he got that from." Kara winked.

Lee's answering sigh was long-suffering, but he grinned to let her know he was kidding. "It's okay, go ahead. We'll be fine here."

"Sure?" She lingered in the doorway.

"Positive." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not completely incompetent, you know."

"Right. Only partially." Her laughter echoed around the room until she'd closed the door of the head.

Lee turned his focus back to his son, moistening the nipple of the bottle with Kara's milk and attempting to slide it between Will's lips. "Come on, buddy," he cajoled softly. "I know it's not like Mama, but she pumped it just for you. Come on."

It took some time, and a few faces made by Will that indicated exactly what he thought of this sub-par offering, but eventually hunger won out and the infant began suckling greedily. One tiny hand came up to pat at Lee's arm, and the latter grinned, chuckling a little.

"Guess Kara's not the only Thrace I know how to handle, huh?" he murmured. "Mind you, you're an Adama too, so you've got the rule-following genes going for you. Although your uncle was a bit more on the impulsive side than I am." Lee paused for a moment. "Did I ever tell you about your Uncle Zak? You're named after him, you know."

Will squirmed a little, kicking out his legs.

"He was a great guy. He would've loved to meet you. Probably would've spoiled you rotten, actually, and I would have pretended to get annoyed with him, but I don't think I'd really care that much. Zak grew up so unselfish, optimistic … all of that good stuff. Which was a miracle with the parents we had. I hope you won't ever have to worry about that … I'll see that you don't, I promise. Anyway …"

Lee tilted the bottle up as his son drank, and sighed. He wasn't even sure why he was saying all this, whether the baby could even understand him … but he liked to think it was possible. Maybe, just maybe.

"Anyway, Zak used to tell me, 'Believe the best of people, and they'll believe the best of you.' And I'd roll my eyes and say he was nuts, but sometimes I wonder if he wasn't onto something." Lee smiled, more thoughts flitting to the surface of his mind. "He loved your mama so much, you know that? She was going to marry him, because she loved him too. There's something about Kara that just … draws you in, and by the time you realize she's got you, you don't _want_ out, because you are so in love with her that you can't even control it. Maybe someday you'll know what that kind of love is like. I hope so."

Will, full, let go of the bottle, and his father lifted him carefully. Lee draped one of Kara's nursing blankets over his shoulder and began to rub slow circles on the infant's back.

"For a while, I … I tried to pretend your mama and I were just friends, and I guess it worked. We _were_ friends, and we still are. I thought that to feel anything else would be letting your uncle down, and that was the last thing I wanted to do." He kissed the top of Will's head. "But then, your mama almost died. I couldn't hack it after that. When the worlds end, you start doing some pretty crazy stuff. Hugging your dad again after not speaking to him for two years … kissing the woman who should've been your sister …" Lee laughed a little, and was rewarded with one of his son's huge smiles. "Okay, I know, that's kind of gross. But I never forgot about your Uncle Zak. I think about him every day. And every day I wonder what he'd say to me if he could see me now."

He sighed, momentarily quieting and listening for sounds in the head. The shower had flicked off, so Kara was probably drying herself, tugging on clothes. Soon, they'd pack up and head to the mess hall, and after that, the hangar deck to catch a Raptor to _Pegasus_. Damned if he didn't just want to stay here and keep talking to Will. At least the infant was coming with them; Kara wouldn't hear of leaving their son in overnight care, especially while she was still nursing a little.

Lee was surprised, in a way, how easy it was to talk to Will. It wasn't that he'd known many parents, but those he _had_ been in contact with all seemed to use high, silly-sounding voices when conversing with their children. Lee had never talked down to Zak when his brother was young, and the latter had been unusually articulate and perceptive beyond his years. Of course, that might just have been Zak's personality, but Lee suspected there was something to the idea of not using baby talk around kids. Kara agreed, and was in fact far more blunt — the minute Lee caught her "being cutesy," she said, she wanted him to punch her in the head. Somehow, he didn't think they'd need to put that to the test.

 _It's different when they're your own. You …_ bond _with them, and it almost doesn't matter if you're a little uncomfortable._

Shevon's words came back to him, suddenly. It wasn't as though he'd forgotten, exactly, but neither had he thought of her in a long while. In this, though, she had known precisely what she was talking about.

Lee still found it weird sometimes, that this was his life. He had always had difficulty relating to children, so he'd made up his mind that they were to be avoided, at all costs. Before the attacks, he drifted away — unintentionally, he told himself — from friends of his who had kids, and he made up his mind that he would never be caught dead in their positions. Then he proved it by running away from Gianne. But, because karma was a bitch and the universe clearly enjoyed messing around with him a little too much, he'd become involved with Kara, in a situation where he _couldn't_ run off … and she had conceived.

And he'd been scared. He'd been scared out of his godsdamned mind.

He had spent the weeks after Will's birth in an almost constant state of desperate, all-consuming _fear_. Every time his son cried, Lee would panic. Kara said, unflatteringly, that he looked like a scared rabbit. He _felt_ like one. He hated to hear that cry so much that he would just freeze, wait for it to stop, hope it would. He _wanted_ to help, _wanted_ to do something about it, but his fear of somehow doing wrong seemed to outweigh all other considerations and short-circuit his brain.

It got easier, gradually. Lee learned to recognize Will's signals and figure out what the baby wanted. He learned to distinguish a food cry from a wet diaper cry from a cry for cuddling from a sleepy cry. Of course, he made mistakes. That was to some degree inevitable. But those mistakes weren't fatal, and none of them caused permanent damage. This, in turn, built his confidence.

Now, just as he'd once not been able to imagine himself with a child, Lee couldn't imagine his life _without_ his son. He suspected Will had a stronger bond with Kara — they seemed to share something special, and not just because she had been the main provider of food for so many months — but Lee had only to look into the infant's eyes to see the devotion there. Kara claimed Will had missed his father when Lee had been in sickbay: that the baby acted uncharacteristically irritable and refused to sleep until Lee held him. The latter wasn't sure how much of this he believed, but he had to admit, it _sounded_ nice.

 _It's different when they're your own._

Yes.

Yes, it certainly was.

***

By that evening, and the end of his shift, Lee was no longer thinking of Will, or the _Pegasus_ , or even Commander Garner and how difficult it was to keep his superior officer and his partner from strangling each other.

He was forcing himself to admit an unpleasant truth: Kara had been right. All he wanted to do was find the nearest bed and collapse into it. He wasn't going to be picky. _Any_ bed would do. Lee had to almost physically restrain himself from curling up on the inviting leather couch in Garner's quarters during the shift change handover and simply passing the hell out. He didn't think that would make a very good first impression, but damn, was it ever tempting.

The Admiral had insisted that Lee and Kara be given shared quarters, citing their living situation on _Galactica_ , and Garner had complied — reluctantly, Lee thought, but still he had complied. So it was to the married quarters deck that Lee dragged himself after he'd been dismissed, heavily resenting how far it seemed to be from CIC. He promised himself he had almost arrived, that in just a few short minutes he could collapse, but he was less than halfway there when he started promising that, and only a small, vague portion of his brain actually cared that he probably looked like a staggering drunk. Forget first impressions; this was about _survival_.

A strong arm wrapped around his waist as he confronted yet another endless corridor, and Lee didn't even need to look to know it was Kara. "Come on, Apollo," she said bracingly as she chivvied him along at a much faster clip than he'd been going. "To use your words, I'm not carting your ass back to our quarters when you collapse, so please don't do it in this hallway."

"I didn't expect a welcoming committee," he mumbled as she keyed the code into their hatch.

"Don't flatter yourself, I was in the neighbourhood." Kara hauled him over the threshold and kicked the door shut behind them; it sealed automatically. Lee had a brief impression of a nice-looking room with several more couches ( _Oh, gods, horizontal surfaces_ , he thought to himself) before he was dragged through another doorway into — _finally_ — a bedroom. With a real bed. A real bed that looked really, _really_ comfortable.

He simply stood and stared for several moments, imagining cool sheets, a soft pillow, the warm covers over him. Kara had left his side and was now rummaging in another closet, her actions a mirror image of those that morning.

"Strip," she ordered over her shoulder, and Lee was only too happy to comply. "We've got a shower to try out, and you're going to be the test subject, flyboy."

He paused in the act of shucking off his jacket to gape at her, open-mouthed. "What?"

Kara faced him, one hand on her hip, the other clutching a pile of towels. "Look, Lee, you'll thank me for this later, all right? The minute you lie down you are going to pass the frak out and not get another thing done this whole damn evening. In another half hour I have to go to the care center and pick up your kid, who is probably going to be very cranky and pissed on account of being left with a bunch of strangers all day. And since supervising the rugrat will fall to me tonight, I won't be around to watch you and make sure you don't trip over your own feet and crack your head open in the shower. Meaning that right now is the only window of opportunity we have, so you are going to take off your clothes and march to the frakking head. Got it?"

Lee's gaze found the bed again. So _inviting_ …

"Kara, have a heart," he pleaded.

"Nope, that would ruin my reputation," she smirked. "Now, c'mon. _March_."

Technically, theoretically, she was right, of course, and they both knew it. But the bed was far too alluring to be given up without a fight. "Frak you," Lee mumbled as he peeled off his tanks and started for the head.

"Yeah, not until you're done smelling like a latrine, Adama." Kara, laughing, was right behind him.

"Isn't that — my line?" Lee squeezed out around an enormous yawn.

"Guess so," Kara grinned. "You want me to give you a bath?"

"Seriously?"

"It'll be just a wash if I climb in there with you." Her expression was stern now. "Nothing else."

"Good, because I don't have the energy."

He didn't remember much of the shower, would not in fact feel even remotely human again until Kara dragged him out of that comfortable bed the following morning when their alarm went off. But Lee did recall what they'd talked about in the head, and he couldn't help thinking about the impact that six little words had had on his situation.

 _You wanna give me a bath?_

How different might his life have been … how much less full … if she hadn't said them?


	39. Chapter 39

Days later, and Lee was _still_ tired.

Not just from his residual recovery, though that was certainly a factor. He was tired of being a referee. He was tired of jumping in between Garner and Kara during the dozens of confrontations the two had each day. Neither had explicitly said so, but it was clear to Lee that Garner expected him to take his side because the latter was in command, and Kara thought Lee should be on _her_ side due to their personal relationship. Either way, he felt like he was being used, and he began to quietly resent that truth. Garner had even called Lee into his office about a week after the so-called mission started, and the sole topic of discussion on the docket was Kara.

"I have a problem," Garner growled bluntly as they sat across from each other on those same leather couches. "That problem's name is Kara Thrace."

Lee had swallowed, understanding immediately that he was treading on shaky ground. "Regardless of what may be happening between us on a personal level, I know how to handle her, sir."

The Commander snorted. "I'll bet you do."

Lee chose to ignore that remark. "And for the record, she is one hell of a Viper pilot."

"What? I should cut her some slack because she's good in the cockpit? Is that what you're saying?" Garner scoffed. "Or are you trying to tell me I should go easy on her 'cause she's your girlfriend? Nobody ever cut us any slack in the engine room, I could tell you that right now. But then, I don't know, maybe being a snipe is different than being a Viper jockey. No loosened rules, no shacking up, no fraternization! No flashy stunts or flying by the seat of our pants down there! The engine room is like a finely-tuned watch, and everything in it needs to be monitored and maintained in a very precise fashion. Nobody freelances. Everything is done in the proper way at the proper time and in the proper order! Or there'd be no power. No lights. No hot showers for your flyboys, or heat for those married quarters! You know, Major, I think some of the people around here could learn a thing or two from the snipes."

Lee had just sighed, and attempted to get through the rest of the conversation as quickly and painlessly as he could. It seemed abundantly clear that Garner thought he was biased, but Lee didn't want to risk the other extreme either — deliberately mistreating Kara in a desperate attempt to prove that he wasn't favouring her. Instead, he kept trying to toe the line straight down the middle, and every day was like navigating a particularly dangerous and volatile minefield. Kara hadn't approached him yet to complain about Garner, but given the circumstances, Lee figured that was only a matter of time. She treated him with an excess of cordiality in their quarters once their shifts had ended, and for Kara, that usually meant she was nursing one hell of a grudge of her own. She gave him politeness, assistance when he needed it … and nothing else.

The situation finally started to come to a head a couple days later, when two Raptors out on one of Kara's training missions inexplicably vanished. Garner was quick to blame Kara for this, stating right in CIC that if she'd been keeping an eye on the crews, they wouldn't have disappeared. To make matters worse, Kara hadn't heard about the missing Raptors until Garner told her, giving the Commander even more ammunition to declare her unfit. Lee thought for a moment that his prediction would come true, that she would start chucking things or at the very least throwing punches at Garner, but Kara did neither. She just spun on her heel and left.

He didn't see her again until a few hours later, in the pilots' briefing room. Lee hung back by the door and watched the assemblage for several moments, Starbuck joking and laughing with the _Pegasus_ pilots — and it was indeed Starbuck and not Kara, the brash and carefree persona on full display. She wouldn't want to show weakness around them, especially since rumours about the nature of her relationship with a certain Major were already a hot topic in some circles. Kara hadn't made many friends yet, and Lee sensed she wasn't likely to. The personnel on different warships were allies by necessity, but that didn't always mean they wound up close to one another. And Kara, who was particularly prickly, probably wouldn't do much to invite friendships. Her talent was not letting people in.

In fact, most times he considered it a miracle that _he_ had found his way in.

"Attention on deck!" called a pilot as the door swished back to admit Lee.

"At ease." He made his way into the room, feeling most eyes looking in his direction … and some towards Kara. "Where's Stinger?" Lee asked, noting an absence.

"He's in hack for mouthing off to Garner," Kara snickered. "Stepped on his precious little toes."

"Frakking Garner," muttered the pilot who'd announced him. Her name was Case, Lee remembered.

The assembled fliers laughed.

"He's such an idiot," Case continued.

Lee shook his head, knowing he couldn't let this kind of smack talk continue. Particularly not about Garner, who seemed so sensitive to it. And anyway, it was considered extremely bad form to complain about your CO. "All right, lock that up!" he barked. "Let's get something straight: we've got two missing Raptor crews who are gonna be out of oxygen in thirty-six hours. That's all that matters. So, everyone knock off the schoolyard crap and start doing your frakking jobs." He paused for a breath, making sure he had everyone's attention. "Now … we need to start thinking outside the box. Which is supposed to be what you do best," he added to Kara.

She wouldn't meet his gaze. "Sorry, Major," she muttered, and there were some titters from the back of the room.

Lee ignored them. "Okay, I want to know everything there is to know about these missing Raptors and their crews. I want to know personal quirks, aircraft squawks, wireless transmissions, anything that might help. Get to it."

He pretended not to see the resentment in Kara's eyes as he turned to speak with Case.

Lee was feeling pretty damn resentful himself.

***

Three hours into the investigation, and he was driving her frakkin' _crazy_.

Kara wasn't certain which _he_ she was thinking of. That tended to change from moment to moment. Whenever she had to report to CIC, it was Garner, unquestionably. There was something about the Commander that just rubbed her the wrong way, and had done so ever since she first met him. He was arrogant, rude, paranoid, had no sense of humour, and possessed a stick up his ass that made Lee's look miniscule — something she'd never thought would be possible. Garner was always in her face, blaming her for something, looking down on her for violating frat regs, or otherwise acting pissy because she didn't conform to his standards of the perfect officer. Well, that was too damn bad. Kara Thrace had _never_ been perfect, nor would she ever be, and the more he tried to wind her up, the sorrier he'd be.

The other _he_ … the other _he_ was _Lee_.

She'd never wanted him put in the middle. Not intentionally, anyway. When Kara had talked about him not getting laid if he didn't agree with her, that had been a joke. She never would have requested special treatment because of her personal life. But was it too much to ask that he back her the frak up once in awhile? That he say _one_ positive thing when Garner was ragging on her? The Commander had all but accused her of losing the Raptors on her own, and all the while Lee just stood there and gaped like a godsdamned fish. Then he put his head together with Garner and seemed to be parroting everything the Commander was saying. To some degree that wasn't out of character for Lee — he had this thing with authority figures, after all — but she'd thought their relationship was worth _something_ , that it meant he could slip in a kind word occasionally.

Evidently, Kara had miscalculated.

But she didn't know how to complain about it to him without sounding entitled, so she mostly kept her mouth shut.

At the moment, she was trying to shove both Lee and Garner from her mind, and do her job. Kara wasn't meeting with much success, though, either in bullying her thoughts into cooperating or finding the missing Raptors. Maybe a change of approach was needed.

"Where's Shark's last transmission?" she asked Case, who was working with her.

The other pointed to an in-tray in the corner. "There's not much there. A bunch of people have already been over it."

"Can't hurt to take another look," Kara muttered, scooping the pages from the tray and setting them on her work table. She passed a copy to Case and then paused, black marker in hand, chewing on the cap, thinking.

"'Eve … distress … bearing … reek … shuns … emerge — read,'" she read out, moving the cap around her mouth. "They were in distress."

"They … give a bearing," Case filled in. "'Requesting instructions … it's an emergency … can you read?'"

Kara nodded. "Maybe, but what's this 'eve' fragment here?" She stabbed her pen at the offending passage. "Eve … distress, eve distress. Eve. Eve. What …?"

A long pause, during which they both racked their brains. She could sense Lee's eyes on her from across the room, but she pretended not to care.

Suddenly an idea shoved its way to the forefront of her mind. "Recei-received?" Kara wrote the words in, right on the paper. " _Received_ distress call?"

"From who?" Case wanted to know.

"I don't know," Kara admitted. "But maybe that's where they went. To go find out."

In a matter of moments, Lee was beside them. Perhaps drawn by the sudden looks of excitement on their faces, perhaps something else, but either way, she felt annoyed again. _Gods, he can frakking stare at me for an hour but he can't stick up for me in front of Garner?_ Once again, though, she promised herself she wouldn't say a word. _Don't be the first to break._ If it was a battle of wills he wanted, he'd gotten it.

"You've found something?" Lee asked.

(His elbow was just barely touching hers, but she would not think about that. No, she would not.)

"Yeah, we think we might have decoded part of this distress call," Kara explained, studiously keeping her eyes trained on the paper. "This _eve_ here could be part of the word _received_. If they received a distress call, maybe they jumped away to check it out."

"Okay. Um …" He rubbed his eyes, and the protective part of her noted his fatigue and worried for him, but she pushed that aside. "So they jump away after a distress call, we can't figure out what they're saying, and the coordinates get lost in the soup. Why aren't they back?"

"Maybe their FTL's shot?" Case suggested. "Or the situation could be too big for them to handle on their own."

"Or maybe it's a Cylon trick," Kara said sharply. "Create a phony distress call that draws away two Raptors, knock out the crew, keep 'em there, and sit back and wait for the whole damn cavalry to show up. _If_ the cavalry is stupid enough to show up, but with Garner running this show —"

"That's enough," Lee interrupted. "Captain Thrace, for the record, I do think this theory has substantial merit. But —"

Kara snorted. "There's always a but."

He glared. "You know very well that the next step is to consult Garner and get his reading on the situation. And that's what we're going to do right now."

" _We?_ Major, you and I both know that Garner's not going to listen to a godsdamned thing I say —"

"Garner is a professional," Lee bit off as they headed toward the door together. "The lives of our Raptor pilots are at stake here and this is no time to allow personal grudges to interfere. Garner is a professional; he knows that."

"That's a frakking load of crap, _Lee_ ," Kara snapped in an undertone once they were in the corridor. "You and I both know he's not big enough to put aside whatever frakked-up vendetta he has against me!"

"I'm not finished," said Lee icily. "I will argue for your theory as best I can, but I will also abide by the Commander's final decision. And I would remind you that what I said about personal grudges works both ways. You'd do well to put aside yours in the interest of this mission, _Captain_."

Her patience having run out, she shoved roughly past him, making sure as she did that it was his right side that got jostled. It was a low blow in almost every sense of the phrase, but Kara did not care. Satisfaction seized her, grimly, when she heard his stride falter momentarily.

"Don't do me any favours, _Major_ ," she growled, and hurried to leave him behind.

***

It occurred to Lee that he and Kara were drifting suddenly, drifting for the first time since the birth of their son, and worse still, he didn't know how to fix it. He figured she would never listen to him if he tried to talk to her, particularly with Garner continually attempting to come between them. Lee also realized that this was one of the rare times they were having problems within their relationship because of influences outside it. Usually, whatever way they managed to frak things up came from _them_. It came from petty misunderstandings and old grudges and lack of communication. Not from the jobs they had to do.

Of course, this _was_ a petty misunderstanding, and it was also a grudge, but it was different at the same time, and Lee found himself floundering. He'd forgotten how cutting and ruthless Kara could be when she was upset. It was her attempt to insulate herself from further disappointment, a protection mechanism with which he had been well-acquainted at one time. Surely, if there was a prize to be awarded for pushing others away, she'd win it, hands-down. Lash out and wound your opponent just enough, in just the right place, so that it withdrew. In some ways being with Kara was like trying to hold on to a handful of lit matches. You'd just get one put out when another would burn down and singe your fingers. And then maybe you would have to drop the whole batch in hopes of picking it up later. Maybe. If you were brave enough and strong enough to risk getting wounded a second time.

Nevertheless, they hadn't come this far, with a _baby_ for frak's sake, to just give up when the going got tough. And he still needed her, perhaps not as much on a physical level anymore, but certainly emotionally. Something was hurting her, pissing her off, beyond just the _Pegasus_ commander. Lee had to find out what it was. And if he was slightly put off by some of her actions — pushing past him in the corridor, for example, which had stirred up some of the residual physical ache and therefore couldn't have been an accident — well, he had to ignore that. She was trying to distance herself from him again, but this time it wouldn't work.

Unfortunately, being in the middle of a growing crisis meant that it was hard to find time to talk to her outside an official capacity, which was what they really needed. Lee recognized that the things he'd said to her before, about putting aside personal grudges in favour of duty, had probably been phrased a little more harshly than they should have been, but the overall message was sound. It was something she needed to hear.

Too bad she likely wouldn't listen.

When he arrived in CIC, Kara was predictably already there, staring at Garner from across the strategy table like the Commander was something unpleasant on the sole of her boot. Lee took a deep breath and counted to ten before plunging into the fray.

"Commander, Captain Thrace has a theory about our missing Raptors, sir," he said as he stepped up beside Garner.

Garner rolled his eyes. "That's good, considering she lost them!"

"Excuse me?" Kara exclaimed, firing up at once.

"Well, they were out on one of your so-called training missions. Weren't they, Captain?"

Kara's eyes blazed. "My _so-called_ training missions?"

"Okay, let's just take this easy," Lee inserted, but neither of the two combatants paid him any heed.

"That's when you're not running off to shack up with the Major here, or sowing mutiny amongst the crew!" Garner charged.

" _Mutiny?_ " Kara was almost yelling. "Sir, my personal life is none of your damn business!"

"Don't you think I know what's happening on my ship?" The Commander pinned her with a glare. "'Barely competent? And paranoid?'"

Involuntarily, Lee's glance shot to Kara. She hadn't said anything about _that_. Not to him, anyway, but it didn't necessarily mean she hadn't mouthed off to somebody else. What he'd overheard in the briefing room had been proof enough. Again, his mind returned to the fact that she should know better, especially with a commanding officer like this one. Gods, would she ever quit trying to buck authority? _Ever?_

Kara held his gaze for almost a full second, like she was daring him to say something. "That was off the record," she barked at Garner. "I was just venting. _Accurately._ "

He looked furious. "I'll have you court-martialed!"

Lee resisted the urge to rub his eyes again. Gods, he needed a drink. "Commander, I'm not defending Captain Thrace's behavior —"

"Thanks, Major," Kara interjected, and her voice was colder than Picon's north wind.

"Captain Thrace, you're restricted to quarters until I can ship you back to _Galactica_ ," Garner announced, a nasty smile curving his lips. "You're Adama's pet. _Both_ of them. Let them deal with you."

Again she spun on her heel, a mirror image of the first time it had happened, and swished through the doors of CIC. Lee was more than close enough to catch the look on her face as she glanced once over her shoulder.

It wasn't a look of anger, or annoyance, or even bitterness. It was one of betrayal. Lee knew by the way she smiled then, by the venom in her eyes, that this look was intended for him.

 _Dammit._

***

He didn't catch up with her again until a half hour later, after her theory had been summarily rejected by Garner and the Commander had sent Lee away in what was obviously a fit of pique. Lee had to admit he felt a certain amount of grudging respect for the man. Garner was clearly in over his head, but he was also attempting to do the best he could with what he had, which wasn't simple in any situation. Besides, not everyone was used to dealing with Kara's particular brand of attitude. Lee himself had only become accustomed to it after a long period of finding it irksome and bordering on insubordination, and he'd begun to tolerate it only because he loved so much else about her. He could see some of the reasons why Garner might decide to dismiss her theory, even if he felt it was the wrong call.

But Lee knew he would also have to talk to Kara, and that he'd need to do it soon. Even now he could feel the gulf between them widening, getting stronger, and for her, it wouldn't be just about the professional. It would bleed into the personal, because Kara had never separated those things very well. Any criticisms Lee might make of Starbuck would turn into character slights on Kara. That was just the way she worked.

When he finally slid the hatch aside and stepped into their quarters, she was flat on her stomach on the floor, doing pushups. From the sweat beading on her arms and shoulders, she'd probably been at it for a while.

"Come to throw me in hack, Major?" Kara said acidly, not breaking stride. "Give me a chance to test out those better digs, huh?"

Lee sighed and eased himself onto one of their couches. Just watching her made him tired. "No one's going to end up behind bars. I just want to talk to you, Kara."

"Oh, so now it's _Kara?_ " She snorted. "Convenient. But then, you always could put it on and take it off. Some of us aren't so lucky, Apollo."

"And what exactly is _that_ supposed to mean?" Against his better judgment, irritation flared.

"Dunno." Her grin was feral. "You tell me."

"Look, all I know is you've been on board just over seven days and you're already facing charges. You don't waste any time, do you?"

"Neither do you, Lee." Kara shoved herself up one last time and reached for a nearby towel, draping it around her neck. "How's it feel being Garner's new playmate?"

Lee couldn't stop the resentment from bubbling into his tone this time. "I'm here to do a job!"

"Yeah, keep me in line, right? Make sure I don't ruffle any of those well-tuned feathers Garner keeps talking about? It was a joke when we first came over here, but suddenly it's not so funny anymore, is it?" She clapped him on the shoulder, unkindly, as she passed behind him.

"What is that about, anyway?" He whipped around to face her and swiftly regretted it, holding back a wince. "What you just did. You're always punching me, shoving me, pushing past me —"

"Maybe because that's the only way I can get you to feel anything anymore," Kara said coolly.

Lee's eyebrows rose nearly into his hairline. " _What?_ "

"Ever since we got here you've been like a frakking Centurion, Lee! A robot! Like nothing else matters to you except being a stuffed-shirt godsdamned martinet! Like it's more important to carry water for frakking _Garner_ than it is to —"

She broke off, suddenly. Suddenly enough that Lee realized she was close to the heart of whatever had been bothering her. Kara didn't talk in clichés.

"To what, Kara?" he asked quietly.

"You know what, never mind." She slapped the towel over her shoulder, twined it around her neck.

"Look." Lee folded his hands together, leaned forward. "I know it's hard coming into a new situation, new expectations and new shipmates —"

"Cut the shit, Lee," Kara snapped, throwing down her towel as though she was angry with it. "I could get that much from a frakking brochure."

She rummaged in their small cooling unit for several moments while Lee gathered his thoughts, tried to figure out how best he could next approach her. Before he could say anything, though, Kara whirled and headed into the bedroom.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To pump, jackass, or have you forgotten about our kid, too?"

Once again he shut his eyes, counted to ten, scrounged for some modicum of composure. Kara, a model of efficiency, was already seated comfortably on their bed with the electric breast pump hooked up and humming by the time he made his way through the door. Lee stood back and just watched for a few moments, watched the milk that would feed their son flow into the bottles attached to the pump as Kara's eyes skimmed over flight evals, paperwork, anything to keep her mind busy during what had to be, for her, one of the most mundane tasks possible. To Lee, though, it wasn't. It had never stopped being anything short of miraculous for him. Just as her body could create a baby out of seemingly disparate parts and bits of genetic material, so could it provide the means to nourish that baby, and it did both things instinctively. That was something to be admired, he thought.

Unfortunately, she wasn't in the mood. " _What?_ " Kara demanded, glancing up sharply.

"I haven't forgotten about Will," Lee said gently. "I'm sorry if I've given you that impression. I'm also sorry about being so distant. That wasn't my intention."

From the surprise on her face, he could tell she hadn't expected that, and he breathed an inward sigh of relief that it had apparently been the right thing to say. Before he'd opened his mouth, he had honestly not been sure whether his impromptu apology might not earn him a punch in the face. He wouldn't put it past her.

Kara's glance flitted away from his, then back. "It just feels like you've been a different person since we got here, okay? Like pretending we don't exist is the best way to do your job and prove you're not biased. All you've _really_ done is stir up a whole bunch of frakkin' rumours."

"And piss you off." He winked.

"Well. That too." She allowed a smile to slip onto her face. "I wasn't gonna mention that part, but now you've brought it up …"

Lee chuckled, boosting himself with difficulty onto the bed next to her. He overcorrected and fell heavily into her, but she just draped an arm around him, her smile sympathetic at his grimace.

"You okay?"

He conjured a smile, hoping fervently that they were at the joking point. "Maybe I would be if someone would stop bumping into me …"

Luckily Kara laughed, and gave his hair a gentle tug. "Sorry. That was dumb."

"Yes, it was."

"Almost as dumb as you ignoring me whether you were on or off shift," she grinned. "And not backing me up around Garner, and shooting down every single one of my ideas because otherwise he'd think we were getting too close …"

Lee sighed. "And here I thought I was walking such a fine line between favouritism and fairness."

"Not so much, flyboy."

It was difficult to hear, because he _had_ , honestly, thought he was doing okay. Clearly Kara believed otherwise, thought in fact that Lee was doing exactly what he'd sworn to himself he wouldn't: swinging so far in the other direction that he became _unfair_ to her. Interpretation mattered — and it was not only his own interpretation he had to take into account, but the interpretation of others. Of course, part of him, the vindictive part, wondered if he hadn't been subconsciously doing it to get back at her for what he perceived as her issues with authority. That still made Lee's blood boil, but he knew this wasn't the time to bring it up. Not when they were just starting to get along again.

Kara, though, had never known when to leave well enough alone. "Was that the only reason you were acting like that?" she asked after a few more minutes. "Aside from the gigantic stick that we both know still resides up your ass."

"Ha." Lee rolled his eyes. "And yeah, I guess it was. Are you _ever_ going to stop with the stick thing?"

She cocked her head to the side, pretending contemplation, and then smirked. "Nope."

" _Great_." Unthinkingly he brought his hand up to scrub at his face, falling into her again. "Frak!"

"You have all the grace and balance of a wet noodle, Apollo," Kara pronounced solemnly, then burst out laughing.

"Yeah, look who's talking," Lee muttered, finally managing to right himself. "I seem to recall someone almost falling out of their rack trying to turn over."

She slapped his stomach and grinned. "Except you're not pregnant."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is getting shot not enough to justify clumsiness? Next time I get tired of being graceful I'll be sure to throw myself off a hangar deck causeway and break both my legs, just to meet with your exacting standards."

They were both laughing by then.

"Look, just go with my theory in front of Garner if you want to impress me, okay?" said Kara when they'd recovered themselves. "I really do think that's what happened to Buster and he's an idiot if he doesn't see that. Take it to him again. Keep bugging him about it until he understands."

Lee kissed the side of her neck, pulling her close.

"I will," he promised. "I will."


	40. Chapter 40

Lee was as good as his word. After he returned to CIC, he brought up Kara's theory as soon as he could, aided and abetted by a new distress signal that had been received from a location very near to the one where the missing Raptors had disappeared. Unfortunately, Garner was as close-minded as ever, and Lee's earlier supposition that the Commander would put aside his personal grudges to consider a theory growing in plausibility was proving to be false. Lee wondered — not aloud, because he didn't even want to think about the furious tirade _that_ would likely earn him — whether he had finally encountered an officer in the Colonial Fleet more unprofessional than Kara Thrace. He hadn't thought that was possible, but couldn't consider arguing with the evidence right there in front of him.

The Commander wanted to stage a rescue mission. A _rescue_ mission, when they had no idea what had gotten the missing Raptors in trouble, whether it was a busted FTL drive or something more sinister. They had coordinates, and to Garner, that was enough. Lee's suggestion that they send a recon ahead to check out the situation before rushing in blind fell on decidedly deaf ears.

Garner was at least sensible enough to consult with his superior, which bought Lee a few moments of relief. There was no question that the Admiral would put a stop to this. And Lee knew of few people who wouldn't think twice before disobeying a direct order from William Adama. For once he felt thankful for his father's omnipotence.

He listened to Garner prattle into the comm receiver, explaining the situation and his plans to jump the _Pegasus_ away to pick up the missing Raptor crew. Lee was flooded with relief again at the Admiral's response.

" _Commander, believe me, I understand how you feel_ ," Adama said, and Lee knew he did, remembering the times his father had gone to the mat for his own officers. " _But the Cylons have been known to lure ships into traps using fake distress calls. Have you considered that?_ "

"We have, sir," Garner replied. Lee could almost _see_ his superior thinking at him: _Toe the line. Do as I say._ "It's a scenario we don't think likely."

" _We? Major Adama, do you concur?_ "

Frak. Lee really had no choice.

"Sir, Captain Thrace and I are of the opinion that the first two Raptors may very well have been lured away by just such a trick," he said, matching the Commander glare-for-glare.

"An opinion I do not share, sir," Garner interrupted.

" _We'll send a recon mission in full force,_ " Adama decided. " _Five Raptors — three escort, two rescue. You have your orders, Commander._ "

Garner's eyes were icy now. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He banged the phone down hard enough to crack the receiver and whirled on Lee. For a singular moment, the latter almost thought his Commander would strike him, or at the very least, berate him for not doing as asked, but Garner did neither. Instead he simply balled his hands into fists and snapped, "Thank you, Major. I'm sure your expertise is needed elsewhere."

Lee, understanding a dismissal when he heard one, nodded curtly. "Yes, sir."

It occurred to him, as he pushed through the double doors of CIC to leave Garner behind, that Kara would have been proud.

***

When Lee took the opportunity to look back at the events of that day, to examine them through the perspective and distance that time provided, he could see that the signs were there. The signs _had_ been there ever since he and Kara came aboard _Pegasus_ , ever since she first got pissed at Garner and he at her, ever since Lee realized Garner was going to choose emotion over rationality. Still, it was difficult to believe that the chain had led to this. That it had led to a place he had never expected to be in, to a responsibility he never wanted. He never wanted it because it seemed to him the epitome of something he had studiously tried to avoid throughout his life: the act of becoming exactly like his father, of turning into what he'd put so much energy towards despising. The broken bonds of the Adama family had healed over to a degree, Will providing the necessary balm for that, but if there was one thing Adamas could do and do well, it was hold grudges. Lee still had his own towards his father, and he wasn't sure when or if they would ever abate.

But none of that mattered now, because — because —

He couldn't. Couldn't think it, couldn't imagine it, couldn't contemplate it. He felt nauseous when he tried. All those lives entrusted to him, and somehow it was even more daunting than when he had been just the CAG. _Just_ the CAG, in another position he had never wanted, but would have taken gladly now in his new rank's stead.

On the plus side, there were those leather couches. Lee was certain he and Kara could find a few creative uses for them. If she was able to get the transfer —

No. He wouldn't think _if_ , because doing so made the nausea rise again. Instead, he would once more contemplate what had brought him here, the progression of events that left him staring at his duffel bag with far more responsibility to his name.

Lee Adama, Commander of the battlestar _Pegasus_.

It didn't sound right.

It sounded like he was playacting. Trying on his father's clothes and then picking up his father's briefcase but finding it too heavy. Dropping it on his foot.

So he took himself back, back to the moment when the Condition One alarms had sounded right outside the pilots' quarters.

"Captain Case, what's going on?" Lee demanded of the nearby pilot, as alarms blared in his ears. She was herding the others along the corridor, all-business.

"We've been ordered to scramble, Condition One," she told him. "Ship's getting ready to jump. We're gonna launch on the other side."

He sucked in a breath, certain at first that he must have misheard, the alarms providing a compelling counterpoint. _Surely_ Garner wouldn't disobey what amounted to a direct order. _Surely_ he wouldn't be that stupid, or that determined to sacrifice the many for the few. But Lee remembered the look in the Commander's eyes when he'd hung up the phone. He remembered the determination — not, apparently, a determination to follow orders but rather to ignore them, to go his own way and frak the consequences. Had Garner known even then? Had the idea been forming in his mind to forget what the Admiral had said and create his own agenda? Lee wondered if there were signs _he_ should have caught.

He jogged hurriedly down the hallway, turned a corner and almost had a head-on with Kara, who was barreling from the opposite direction. Immediately she grabbed him and tugged him aside.

"What the hell does Garner think he's doing?" she growled in an undertone.

Lee shook his head. "I don't know. I have no idea. The Admiral ordered him not to risk the ship, but obviously he's not paying any attention."

"Asshole," Kara muttered. He did not reprove her.

"Look, I've got to be in CIC," Lee whispered. "You get down to the hangar deck, understand?"

Her eyes sparkled momentarily, then creased. "What?"

"You're the best pilot we've got," he told her, honestly. "So get down there. Find a Viper."

"It's about time you admitted that!" crowed Kara, the old familiar grin splitting her face.

 _Lords, I've missed that_ , Lee thought, and on sudden impulse he caught her arm as she was about to sprint off again.

" _What_ , Lee?"

"This," he said, and, not caring who saw them or who commented or whether it got back to Garner, he kissed her, full on the lips, a gentle kiss that grew insistent as she warmed to the idea. Kara tugged him towards her until their bodies were flush to each other and his arms wrapped around her and her hands clutched the back of his neck and gods be _damned_ if shivers weren't racing down his spine at breakneck pace now. They were frantic, devouring, Kara's tongue on his lips shoving them aside and dipping into his mouth and he let her, he let her, breathed in her essence until it defined him.

It was the first time in days, in a week, that they'd shared a kiss like this. Part of Lee's brain wondered idly how they had held off so long.

He kept kissing her and she him past the point of decency, until whistles and catcalls started to resound in the corridor, and there were one or two whispers of "Pay up" between the other pilots when Lee and Kara finally broke apart. She reveled in it, one hand clutching his and the other extended as she took a wide, sweeping bow. Lee was blushing, though he knew he had no one to blame but himself for the inadvertent exhibitionism. He tried not to notice that a surreptitious exchange of cubits, socks and what looked like some of the last chocolate bars in the universe was ongoing underneath the applause of their colleagues.

Frakking perverts.

In a couple more seconds, though, everyone had dispersed, and Lee took the opportunity to kiss her one more time, quickly, on her forehead. "Be careful out there," he said softly, desperately. He thought he might understand for the first time how she had felt during all those months of being grounded, unable to fly because of Will, having to watch her fellow pilots go out time after time without her. It was hard. It was almost impossible, knowing he wouldn't be there to back her up.

Kara slapped his cheek lightly. "Good hunting is what you say, Major. Remember?"

"Right." Lee laughed, though his heart wasn't in it. "Go. Just go."

"Yes, sir." She snapped her arm up in a mock salute before hurrying off after Case.

Lee tried not to watch her race off, tried to shove all thoughts of rough landings and stray bullets and overzealous Raiders out of his mind. He failed miserably at both tasks, but luckily there were other matters to occupy him as he scrambled to CIC.

"Commander, what's our sitrep?" Lee barked as soon as Garner was within hearing range.

"This is a rescue mission, Major," the Commander said smoothly.

"On whose authority?"

There was that smile again, ugly and too damn certain. "Mine. I'm bringing my pilots home."

"With all due respect, sir," Lee forced out through gritted teeth, "if this is a Cylon trap, then we are entering blind! We should send a force recon —"

Garner wouldn't even hear him out. "My pilots are _dying_ down there, Major! I'm going in, I'm not waiting on recon!"

 _Time spent in reconnaissance is seldom wasted._ The platitude floated into Lee's brain, though he couldn't remember where he'd first heard it. Probably from some wizened old professor at War College, the kind where you wondered whether they had any actual experience or if they had just learned everything by reading textbooks. Nonetheless, it was the sort of advice that stuck with you, and it certainly applied in this situation.

"Commander, this is in direct violation of the Admiral's orders —" Lee began warningly.

The other man's countenance immediately turned stern. "Major, leave combat," he ordered, and it wouldn't have been a stretch to call his smile vindictive now.

"— making this an illegal action on your part, sir!" The situation was spiraling out of control, rapidly, and while some part of Lee recognized that, he also understood that there was little he could do to stop it.

"You are relieved, Major!" said Garner triumphantly. He turned to a nearby Marine. "Sergeant of the guard —"

This time it was Lee who interrupted. "I am forced to take command of this vessel —"

 _Shit, what the hell did I just say?_

But there was no time for questioning, nor for second-guessing.

Garner spoke over Lee to the Marine. "This man is in direct disobedience of an order and under federal regulations I want him under arrest! Take him below!"

Lee now addressed the sergeant as well. "Sergeant, the commander's been properly relieved. Escort him to his quarters."

The Marine looked slightly terrified, his gaze darting from Garner to Lee and back again, indecision in every inch of him. This soldier, who had worked with the _Pegasus_ crew on every previous mission since the attacks, would be intensely loyal to that crew. But would he be as loyal to Garner, who in some senses was as much of an interloper as Lee? The latter hoped not. He hoped that the inherent absurdity of the situation would help to convince the man that decisive action was needed. Surely he didn't want to meet his death on some stupid, frakked-up rescue mission, just for loyalty's sake?

"This man is not a member of this crew, and you will obey a direct order that you have been given by me, and you will do it _now!_ " Garner thundered. It was almost as though he'd read Lee's mind. Possibly, he had.

That seemed to be the deciding factor, as the Marine nodded at Lee and prodded him to the side, through the doors of CIC and into the hallway beyond. Briefly Lee thought of trying to overpower him, grabbing his weapon somehow, taking more decisive action, but there were other Marines in the command centre and it was clear that any violent act would mean he'd have to kill the whole bunch of them, plus Garner, to even have a chance of getting a handle on the situation. He probably wouldn't even get that far. And he was not ashamed to admit that the idea of being shot again, of another bullet ripping through his flesh, of plunging back into that ocean of cold and pain once more, made his back tingle with cold sweat. He couldn't. He just couldn't. Not while the memory was so fresh.

Besides, they likely wouldn't make any attempt to help him, not the way Dee had. There would be nothing to prevent him from bleeding out on the floor of CIC while Garner watched.

So Lee could only stand at gunpoint, next to the Marine, and watch helplessly as events unfolded precisely the way he and Kara had foreseen them.

At first, it seemed like things were going to be okay. Lee certainly wouldn't have minded being wrong, not in this circumstance. The _Pegasus_ jumped to the Raptors' last coordinates and faced a clean DRADIS screen, no evidence of enemy combatants anywhere. Lee could almost _see_ Garner's smirk, and suddenly he understood what Kara found so appealing about striking superior assholes.

Search Raptors were launched, those present in CIC waiting with bated breath for good news. Even the sergeant was straining forward, hopeful. It was the search Raptor's pilot who reported the devastating news: the crews of the missing Raptors were all dead, the window screens smashed, blood collecting in their helmets. It sounded like a gruesome scene.

Before anyone could react to this macabre pronouncement, the DRADIS console beeped, and Hoshi sounded utterly panicked as he exclaimed, "Sir, three Cylon baseships just jumped into weapons range!" A pause, then: "Oh my gods, they're launching nukes! Brace for impact!"

It was stupid, it was petty, and it was completely _not_ the right thing to be thinking at that moment, but Lee wished for an instant that he could see Garner's face. He wished he could look at what the Commander was feeling now that he knew it was a trap, that he'd been tricked, that Kara had been right all along. That _Lee_ had been right all along. There was a sick kind of vindication thrumming in his body.

Then the moment passed, and Lee threw an arm against the wall as the ship rocked furiously.

"Two nuclear detonations in the stern, sir!" Hoshi reported.

"FTL drive inoperative, sir!" added Thornton. "We're stuck here, sir."

The next several seconds were a flurry of activity and noise and panic, glass shattering in the doors and people running back and forth and others screaming, yelling, shouting orders and questions and demands that went unheard in the cacophony. Garner didn't seem to be doing anything all that productive to Lee's eye: he had snatched up the phone receiver and was gesticulating wildly at the person on the other end of the line.

Abruptly, before he could change his mind, Lee made a decision. "Sergeant, I think you have better things to do," he nodded at the Marine, and when the latter nodded as well, he strode quickly back into CIC.

Garner was still shouting into the phone, all of his previous bravado gone. "Oh, then the spinner's fine? It's gotta be a sensor. Just pull it — no, no, listen to me, listen to me, just pull it! Pull it!"

Lee didn't have the slightest clue what the Commander was talking about, nor did he have time to ask for clarification. It was likely something to do with the FTL drive, but the bigger problem was that nobody seemed to be in charge, or paying attention to any aspects of the battle around them. They needed the drive, but more than that, they needed to _survive_ from moment to moment. A repaired FTL drive wasn't going to do anyone any good if the ship had been blown to scrap.

"Nuclear detonation!" Hoshi called out. "We have structural damage along the topside heat exchanger, we can't take much more of this!"

Exactly what Lee had thought. "How long before those drives are back up?" he asked Garner, who had finally hung up the phone.

"I don't know," the other man said helplessly. He had a hollow, dead sort of gaze in his eyes. "They don't seem to understand. I need to go down there." Garner now looked at Lee full-on, as though seeing him for only the first time. He drew a breath, sudden supplication in his tone, a decision apparently having been made. "You have the con."

And without another word he turned, hurried through the doors of CIC, and was gone.

Momentary silence reigned.

 _You have the con._

Lee found himself gripping the console in front of him with white knuckles, abrupt panic resounding like a gong in his mind. Of course, what other options were there? Garner was at heart an engineer, and if something went wrong in the engine room, he was the best person to diagnose the issue, to work with the others to fix it. The problem was that he also happened to be the ship's Commander, and if he was not in CIC, someone else had to take over. Especially when the situation was one of life and death. Lee was the next highest-ranking officer present and also likely the one with the most experience. It just made sense.

But that didn't mean it wasn't scary as hell.

The responsibility was on _him_ now. These officers were looking at him, wide-eyed, for instructions. They were looking to him to preserve their lives. And it wasn't just them, either: it was everyone on the _Pegasus_. It was the deck crew and the pilots and the kitchen staff and the strategists and consultants and engineers and computer experts and the guys who swept the floor and the civilians married to officers and their children.

It was Kara.

And it was Will.

This galvanized him into action perhaps more than anything else. His son was aboard. They had discussed leaving Will on _Galactica_ but Kara wouldn't, refusing to be separated from him, and Lee had been glad for that. Now, the child symbolized the importance of survival. If they couldn't make it out of this, he would die, his future erased, standing in for the futures of everyone else who stood to lose as well.

And that just wasn't acceptable.

These thoughts shrieked through Lee's mind in the second or two that it took Garner to leave CIC, and an instant later he decided he _couldn't_ think about Will, or Kara, or anyone else. Just as doing so would provide motivation, it also had the potential to paralyze him, and indecision could be fatal.

He had to rely on a mixture of instinct and training. War College and the smarts and skills he'd picked up since then from gods knew how many Cylon incursions. This wasn't exactly like directing pilots in dogfights. But some of the same principles must apply.

"Yes, sir," Lee whispered, even though Garner was no longer around to hear. His mind raced ahead. "I have the con."


	41. Chapter 41

The familiar swoop caught her and flung her, a bit smoother than on _Galactica_ , with a little less kick. But it was overall the same. Nothing like shooting through a launch tube, strapped in, your eyeballs pinned to the back of your head. Every time she felt this, she knew she had come home. It wouldn't rate anywhere near her very first time in the air — kind of like her very first time having sex, really — but the fact that Kara could fly, could soar, the Viper as much a part of her own body as her arm or her leg, meant that there was something intangible and indefinable about her that no one had the power to take away. She was more than just an officer, a screw-up, an insolent daughter, a reckless idiot, a mother, Lee's lover.

She was _Starbuck_.

She allowed the last vestiges of Kara to seep out of her as the plane was whelped into the nothingness of space, performing a neat spin-pivot before aligning with the rest of her wing and settling in on Case's right side. Starbuck became the Viper, let herself feel the angles and vibrations and turns and twists, her fingers clutching the stick and her foot pressing the accelerator pedal until they'd merged with the machine. She flew from her gut. Always had. The best pilots usually did.

There was a momentary slice of strangeness, of disconnection, when she realized she could not read Case as well, could not predict instinctively what the other would do. Her mind immediately accounted for the difference, reminding her that Case was not Apollo, that they would not share the deep kind of connection that let Starbuck and Apollo know what action the other would take seconds before they decided to do it. The loss was difficult to cope with but not impossible. Besides, she would not need to engage her protective streak, which had always been on guard lately whenever they flew together. She would never have admitted this to anyone, but sometimes, sometimes, it was hard not to put him ahead of her squadron. It was hard not to check where he was first, to protect his ass if he was being threatened a millisecond before she'd rush to save someone else's. But Apollo was not flying with her today, so that distraction had been eliminated.

Starbuck sucked in a breath, let her stomach pull her in different directions, threading her between the Raiders on the DRADIS screen. "All right, Showboat," she called to Case, "you take Red Squadron, hit 'em on the right. Catbird, you take Green, hit 'em on the left. The rest of you follow me, we're goin' straight up the gut."

Showboat and Catbird and their respective squadrons peeled off, followed by the Raiders, and that left Starbuck to arrow through the middle, a laugh bubbling from her lips as she spun the stick and squeezed, pressed, shot-shot-shot, three Raiders vanishing in identical fireballs before even their superhuman processors could react.

"Gotta get up earlier in the morning than that to catch me!" she crowed, and though the comment wasn't meant for anyone but the stars, a few chuckles followed her anyway.

Her gut was already racing ahead, measuring the lines of Raiders as they advanced, eyes skipping to meet the baseships revolving slowly on their axes to release yet more Raiders. She sensed the bogeys behind her even before her proximity alarm sounded, and shouted out a quick command.

"Starburst, people! We're gonna lead 'em through the needle!"

Almost before she'd finished speaking, two of the Vipers shot up and ahead, leaving Starbuck to pivot onto her end and wait, wait while the Raiders took the bait, heedless of the threat below them. The decoys flew in close formation, consciously herding their opponents into a tight circle, darting just in and out of reach, taunting the Raiders like pestilent mosquitoes until they were all gathered close to each other.

"Punch it!" Starbuck yelled, and took the lead in rocketing up, guns blazing as she went, until all nine opponents blew in a rough but familiar starburst formation that sent shrapnel and blood splattering against her canopy.

This was how _she_ relaxed.

Her message receiver beeped, and she glanced down momentarily to see a communication from home base.

 _Adama has assumed command. Concentrate on protecting topside heat exchange while FTL is repaired._

Automatically she flipped her plane end-over-end for a look at her tail. Nothing but _Pegasus_ and exploding flak from its firing solution. No _Galactica_ in sight. Which must mean that not the Admiral, but _Lee_ was the Adama now directing the battle from _Pegasus_. What the hell?

Case had the same thought, at the same moment. " _Apollo's_ in command?" she blurted. "How does _that_ work?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, Showboat," Starbuck barked. This was not the time. "We've got our marching orders, let's follow 'em! Shoot your way through and find the back door, and for frak's sake stay where you are once you've reached it! Topside heat exchange is our priority now!" She flipped to the open comms channel, for actual. "Wilco, _Pegasus_! We've got your back!"

A grin stretched her face as she contemplated her own path. Good old-fashioned dogfighting and a Hail Athena pass was what it would have to be, with all the clutter from friendlies and enemies alike. Exactly the kind of situation on which Starbuck thrived. Meanwhile, the _Pegasus_ was rolling, shuddering like a living thing, turning belly-up so as to present a lesser target to the Cylons. This was gonna be _fun_.

She whirled, somersaulted, turned, as easily as she would dodge through a crowded room, taking out Raiders when they presented themselves and diving to the aid of as many fellow pilots as she could manage. The main purpose was not to run down ammunition, though — they'd need that for later — so Starbuck set up her shots sparingly, aiming to force the Cylons to wipe out their own rather than making her do it. That wasn't as amusing, but _amusing_ could wait.

One abrupt corkscrew later (which, impressively, caused two Raiders to crash into each other) and she was through, pivoting until space reversed itself and _Pegasus_ was above her rather than below. It wasn't difficult to figure out Lee's strategy: the topside had already absorbed some damage and clearly couldn't cope with much more, so he was trying to keep the vulnerable systems protected until they could get the drives operational again. Hopefully that wouldn't take too much longer, because even with the conservation they'd been practicing, their ammo wouldn't last.

Starbuck lost herself in combat for a moment, forgetting everything, forgetting even her own name. It was enough to see the Beast whirling overhead as she stalked back and forth across its bulk, daring the toasters to come to her, daring them to try and take her on. Those that did met with fiery, gruesome deaths, a wild whoop bursting forth from her throat their only eulogy. Of course, they'd be downloaded, resurrected, but for now, they were out of the battle. Every Raider she killed was one less for her fellow pilots to worry about, one less to attack _Pegasus_. And those officers who believed she was just a reckless hotshot who talked big would think twice after she'd saved their sorry asses.

All the time, though, Starbuck was cognizant of her depleting ammunition, and while she did not waste it, eventually the time came to take her last shot, and _Pegasus_ still hadn't shown any signs that it was planning to jump away. Comms chatter told her that most of the other pilots were in the same predicament.

"Actual, this is Starbuck," she called over the pleasing thud-thunk of Raider guts meeting the canopy again. That had been her last shot. "All Vipers report skosh ammo. We're down to throwing rocks at the bastards!"

"Understood, Starbuck," came Hoshi's calm tones. "We should have those drives up and running soon."

"Better step on it, _Pegasus_!" Her stomach pulled her right and Starbuck flipped again, narrowly missing a Raider right on her tail. "Frak!" she yelled as two more joined it. The only option now was to take them on a pursuit course and hope that somebody, _somewhere_ , had the shots to get rid of them. Or —

Her body sang with instinctive certainty and she took off toward the perimeter, darting in and out of the battlestar's firing solution. Twisting, turning, rotating again … the g-forces pressing her into her seat, belts cutting her shoulders … she gritted her teeth and executed another stomach-dropping turn. It was just enough to push two of the Cylons into a nearby fireball, which then engulfed the third.

Starbuck could hear the stunned cheers of her comrades over the radio, but she didn't have time to acknowledge them, because Hoshi was speaking again. "FTL now operative, Starbuck! Bring your birds home, combat landings authorized! I repeat, combat landings authorized!"

He sounded relieved, and she couldn't blame him. Deep down, she felt pretty damn relieved herself.

"Combat landings on three, people!" she bellowed to the pilots at large. "If you're not there when they finish the countdown, you're outta luck, so _be_ there!"

Starbuck hovered by the landing bay, watching the Vipers land upside-down, their mag-locks engaging as soon as they touched down. It was strange, akin to being in some kind of giant metal bat cave. She did a quick head count, subtracted those lost, and flew in herself, reveling in the loud click-thud.

" _Pegasus_ , Starbuck! Nobody behind me but toasters! Now get us outta here!"

Almost before she'd finished saying the words, they obeyed, flight pods clanking closed barely a second in advance of the toasters reaching them.

She leaned back. Always, always, the pull of a jump was what transformed her from _Starbuck_ back to _Kara_. She would not let her other self in until that happened.

She shut her eyes. The world contracted, and claimed her.

***

He felt like the walls were closing around him.

The room was familiar. He had paced it many times, some by himself, most with Will when the infant wouldn't settle. Seven paces lengthwise, six paces in width. It had taken some getting used to, the idea that privacy could be his — or as much privacy as you ever got, living with Kara. Now he _was_ used to it … just in time for things to change again.

Matters might have been heading in this direction since he and Kara set foot on _Pegasus_ , but Lee had been oblivious, blissfully ignorant right up until the meeting in the Admiral's office to discuss the latest incident with the Cylons. Lee had attempted to be as fair as possible in his report, noting that without Garner's efforts to repair the FTL drives, everyone aboard _Pegasus_ would have perished. The fact that Garner had given his life in service to his vessel was also prominent in Lee's mind.

The Admiral had taken all of this in, nodding occasionally, quiet contemplation pervading his countenance. He'd then asked Lee what the latter felt was Garner's biggest flaw, to which Lee had tossed off some platitude that he barely remembered now about the nature of command and how it was people rather than machines who mattered. He would not, however, forget what happened next.

Adama had risen, and scooped a small box off his desk, smiling appreciatively.

 _Remember that … as you take command of the Beast._

Lee had simply stared, incomprehension hanging in the air between father and son.

 _Garner was my decision. His failure's my responsibility. Don't let me fail a second time._

The Admiral popped the box open. Inside were two new rank pins, shiny and gold. _Lee's_ new rank pins.

 _Congratulations, Commander._

He didn't recall any of the rest of the conversation. Barely recalled stumbling from his father's quarters and towards his own, where he now sat on the bed that he shared with Kara. He'd tried to do some packing, to stuff a few things into a duffel bag or two, but then his stomach started doing that thing it always did when he was really nervous, and Lee figured it would be better to have a seat … and keep close to the head just in case.

In the other room the hatch clanked open (godsdammit if he wouldn't miss the noises _Galactica's_ hatches made when they opened and closed) and he could tell by the cadence of the footsteps that it was of course Kara. She wasted no time in coming right to the bedroom, Will resting on her shoulder.

"Hey, _Commander_ ," she drawled, a grin lighting her face. "We're movin' up in the worlds, huh?"

Lee dropped his head to his hands. "Don't call me that, all right?"

"Oh, excuse me, I forgot that you prefer to be addressed as His Most Royal and High Majesty, Ruler of Everything He Sees," Kara joked. "My mistake."

It was a dumb joke, but it drew a laugh unwillingly from his lips. "Very funny."

Kara crossed to the bed and sat, depositing the infant between them. "I stopped to talk to the Old Man on my way here, about a transfer. Figured I may as well get that out of the way since I don't think we want to be shuttling the kid between two battlestars."

"And?" More nervousness prickled Lee's spine, though he couldn't have said why.

"Well, he said that it was a lot of upheaval in a really short time for both of us, and that I don't really know the _Pegasus_ crew that well, plus I started out on _Galactica_ and the Bucket is probably a better fit for me overall, especially after what happened with Garner."

"But —" Lee tried to interrupt; he suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"So, with all of that in mind, he told me that I should fill out a formal transfer and he'll consider it once that comes in, but not to hold my breath and my gods, Lee, you are _way_ too easy." Her face split into another grin.

"Wh-what?"

"Of _course_ he approved me, dumbass! The minute I put my toe through the hatch the first words out of his mouth were 'Well, I guess you'll be going to the Beast now, right?' He's not gonna split us up." Kara punched him lightly on the arm. "He said you'll need me over there to keep you sane."

"Right." Lee tried to smile, but it came out looking more like a grimace.

She scrutinized him closely, all levity gone from her features now. "Are you okay?"

"It's just … it's just a lot of responsibility, that's all." He curled Will's fingers around his own.

"Oh yeah, like that's a problem for you, Mr. Responsibility-Is-My-Middle-Name."

Lee couldn't look at her. "Do you know how many people are on _Pegasus_ , Kara? Eighteen hundred. Almost nineteen hundred. And it's one thing to take care of them for a half hour in relief of somebody else. Day-to-day is … it's decisions and choices and it's knowing that every single one of those choices has the power to affect somebody else's life. Maybe even _end_ someone's life. If I make a wrong call, there's no do-overs, okay? It'll just be _wrong. I'll_ be wrong. And I don't know … I don't know how I'm gonna deal with that. I just don't know."

Her hand found his cheek, stroking softly. "Lee, you can't think about it like that. If you do, it'll paralyze you."

"Too late."

Kara was silent for a long moment. Then: "Is it really that different from being the CAG? You had responsibilities then, too. You had to babysit all us screw-ups." She winked.

"It _was_ different," he sighed. "I don't know. I can't explain how. It just was."

She reached for their son, placing him gently in Lee's arms. The infant gurgled and then grinned, but Lee couldn't find it in himself to return the smile. One of his only ambitions in life had been _not_ to turn into his father … and here he was, with a baby and his own battlestar. Proof positive, as if he needed it, that the universe really did have a sick sense of humour.

"What about when Will was born?" Kara asked quietly. "You were freaked out at first. I know you were. And you did a lot of stupid shit. Gods, we both did. But you kept trying, because you knew how important it was, and you wanted so much to make it work. And maybe this is going to sound stupid and frakked-up, but you did your best and you kept doing your best, and as long as you can say that, no one's gonna tell you it wasn't good enough. No one's gonna tell you to do more."

"That doesn't sound stupid at all," Lee admitted. "But Will's just one person. This is … this is eighteen _hundred_ people, Kara."

"Is our kid really any less important to you?"

He thought for a moment, grasping the infant's hand. "No. No, I guess not."

She grinned again. "Good, 'cause if you'd said yes, I'd have to kick your ass."

That drew a genuine laugh, and they chuckled together before he leaned down and rested his head on her shoulder. As he'd hoped, her arm went comfortingly around him.

"You'll be fine," Kara promised. "And I'll be there to call you on every single thing you mess up."

"I'm sure you will."

"It's my job, Commander."

"I told you not to call me that," Lee sighed.

She slapped him, gently. "Wanna know something my dad used to say?"

Surprised, he almost looked up at her, but wisely refrained. Kara rarely talked about either of her parents, and it was on those occasions that he realized how little he really knew about her past, her childhood. _She_ knew far more about _him_. But then, Kara was like that: she could get you to reveal all sorts of stuff about yourself, while keeping her own thoughts so closely guarded that you never even realized you were missing out on them. It was one of the qualities that made her such a good triad player.

"He used to tell me that … courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." She paused. "I mean, a lot of the time I thought he was full of shit, but that's something I've never forgotten. Dumb, huh?"

Lee shook his head, realizing the wisdom of her father's statement. "No, I think it's true. I think it's really true." He drew his own arm around her, squeezing her tightly. "And you've helped. You have."

Kara shrugged. "What are friends for?"

"Right." He smiled. "What are friends for."

 _Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear._

He would have courage, then.

For Will. For Kara.

For everyone.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that there was only one way to tell the "Razor" story, and that is through a combination of present-day scenes and flashbacks. After all, that's the way it is in canon, and it suited my purposes well here.

_Click. Click._

This? This was crazy.

 _Click. Click._

And it took a lot for Kara Thrace to say something was crazy. It took a hell of a lot. It took a plan like this, where you were supposed to be part of a team that clipped itself to a stabilizer bar, blew itself out of a Raptor, floated toward an experimental Cylon baseship, planted a nuke and somehow got back to home base in time for supper. _Somehow_ being the keyword there.

 _Click. Click._

If she had suggested the plan herself, perhaps she would have thought it less insane. After all, she was renowned for her out-of-the-box thinking, and this was definitely out of the box. But it also wasn't _hers_. It was Kendra Shaw's, Lee's XO, a woman who might — _might_ — just be more of a whack job than Kara. The latter wouldn't have said that about just anybody.

Nevertheless, she had her orders. They all did.

"Showtime, people!" Kara called to the others in the Raptor. "Let's go, go, go!"

There was a loud, explosive hiss as the oxygen rushed out of the small ship with the opening of the door. Kara quickly released her clip, roped herself to Shaw and took the plunge, diving out into space with her superior and attempting to put as much distance as she possibly could between herself and the Raptor. Damn good thing, too, because a missile hit it a second later, blowing it to atoms.

 _Well, there goes part of that plan._

At least the weird Cylon guardian ship seemed to have peeled off with the Raptor's destruction. Score one for the rebel rescue team. And now they had a few precious minutes in relative peace before they had to worry about what they'd find on the basestar in front of them. From what the Old Man had said, it wouldn't be pretty. But Kara could handle that. She felt like she could handle _anything_ after the Farm, after seeing those women hooked up to machines.

That had still been the worst.

Kara continued to feel guilty about leaving Caprica, even though at the time there had been no other choice.

But the guilt might not last much longer. Because Lee had promised.

***

 _The first time they stepped through the hatch of their new quarters, Kara would have given anything for a camera._

Lee wore an expression of such amazement that it was comical, his mouth all but hanging open as he surveyed the room — and the second room after that, and the third beyond that, and none of those took the large, private head into account. You could have set up a regulation pyramid court in the sitting area alone, or so it seemed to two pilots who had long since become accustomed to miniscule bunkrooms in which there was barely enough room to swing a towel. The shared quarters they'd been assigned after Will's birth had been better, but by no means as luxurious as this. Secretly, Kara found herself almost as impressed as Lee, but it was far more amusing to tease him than to admit her own astonishment.

"Hey." She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "You're catching flies, Commander."

Lee blinked and turned around to pull the hatch shut behind them, only to discover that it had already swished closed of its own accord. "The — the —" he sputtered.

"Yes, genius, the door closes by itself," Kara snickered. "You didn't notice that all the times you met with Garner?"

"Well — I —" He ran a hand through his hair and blinked again, like he was expecting the room to vanish before his eyes. "I, um, I guess I didn't."

"Gods, Lee, how did you ever wind up a pilot? You're about as observant as a comatose sea slug."

"Gee, thanks." Lee rolled his eyes. "I just … this place is … wow." He dropped his duffel bag where he stood and ventured toward the sitting area before pausing. "Hey, do you think the toilet flushes by itself too?"

She snorted. "We are looking at actual carpet and a glass coffee table and all you can think about is the toilet? There are leather couches _in here! Priorities, Adama!"_

"Leather couches?" He glanced around, as if only just noticing them.

"And a chaise lounge." Kara indicated the piece of furniture next to the coffee table.

"Oh!" She could practically see the light go on behind his eyes. "I bet those would be good for —"

"See, now you're catching on." She was at his side swiftly, pressing a finger to his lips. "But wait until the kid's asleep, okay? Then we can test 'em out."

Lee smiled down at their son, who was happily ensconced in Kara's arms. "He doesn't seem to mind all this change. That's good."

"Lee, I think as long as he has someone to feed him and hold him and change him every time he shits himself, he's not gonna give a crap," Kara pointed out. Will punctuated that statement by grinning up at them both, as his mother wrinkled her nose. "Speaking of which, where'd you put the stuff? I think he took one on the way over."

"It's around here somewhere." Lee began pawing through the other bag he was holding. "You know, that's not exactly what I meant when I talked about testing out the couches," he told her as she carried the infant toward the nearest one.

"Relax, tightass, I won't do anything until I've got the pad." She sank onto the couch and pillowed her head on one of the cushions. "Mmm, this is amazing _. Do you know how long it's been since I saw a couch, let alone sat on one?" Kara actually moaned at the softness._

Now it was Lee's turn to snicker. "You sound like you're coming."

"That's not what I sound like when I come, and you know it," she shot back lazily, pleased when he blushed. "It usually involves a sound starting with 'l' and ending in 'e'."

"Yeah, yeah. Like you said, let's just save the chatter for later." He passed her his smaller duffel bag and nodded at Will.

"Oh, come on, he has no idea what we're saying. You think he's gonna start running around your battlestar swearing and telling everybody all about the time Mom and Dad banged in the living room?"

Lee snorted. "With you as his mother, I wouldn't put it past him."

"Harsh, Commander. I'm wounded." Kara winked and unfolded the changing pad.

"I told you not to call me that until after the induction ceremony." His tone was pained.

"Yeah, well, since when have I ever listened to a word you said?" She busied herself with unpacking the necessary supplies. "Don't think that'll change just because you have your own ship now."

"I wouldn't expect anything less." It was his second eyeroll in ten minutes, and Kara grinned. "I guess I'll check out the rest of this place. See if the toilet really does flush by itself."

"You should have gone before we left Galactica _," Kara yelled after him, immaturely, and she didn't have to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes yet again._

She turned her attention to Will then, but kept half an ear out for his father in case Lee did or said anything else worth teasing about. When she was finished with the soiled diaper she swapped her son's underclothes for a smart-looking shirt and matching pair of pants, the new items having been scrounged from gods-knew-where by Bill Adama. The Old Man was good that way, slipping them toys and baby supplies and clothing for his grandson whenever he came across something they could use. He hadn't actually said so, but Kara could tell that one of the harder things for the Admiral about their move to the Pegasus _would be the lack of easy access to the infant. He could always get on a Raptor and come see them, or they him, but somehow it just wasn't quite as simple when you weren't on the same ship. Adama hadn't let them leave without extracting a promise from them to visit as often as they could._

"A boy needs his grandfather," he had said gruffly, the effect of the tone somewhat ruined when Will pawed at his face and smiled, causing a matching grin to appear on the older man. Kara couldn't help smiling also, relishing the weird sense of pride that seemed to envelop her whenever she watched them together. This man, who was the closest thing she'd had to a father for a long time, holding her son and adoring her son was almost enough to turn her to mush, if she'd been susceptible to that kind of thing.

Thank goodness she wasn't.

She pulled Will into her lap and leaned back again, listening to Lee pad around their new quarters. Sure enough, the light in the head flicked on and she heard him piss, followed by water running and then … yes, the toilet flushing. He reemerged into the sitting area looking dumbfounded.

Kara could only laugh. "So what's the verdict?"

"The verdict?"

"Yeah, on the toilet. Does it really flush by itself?"

He nodded. "It's weird," Lee muttered fervently. "Really, really weird."

"Right, because gods forbid the Commander waste his time on such a frivolous task as flushing his own toilet."

Lee laughed, but his heart wasn't in it, and his smile had gone by the time he sat next to her on the couch and pulled her head to his chest. She could feel the rumble of his voice as he said, "Look, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Kara peeked at the old wristwatch he'd taken to wearing. "Better do it fast, then. We've still gotta get ready for the ceremony."

"I know, I know." He sighed, and was silent for a moment, apparently gathering his thoughts. "Kara, before … before all this crap happened, before Cloud Nine _and the thing with Garner and the Admiral giving me_ Pegasus _… I made you a promise."_

She sucked in a breath. Hope had flared suddenly, bright and hot.

"I told you I would help you get approval for a mission back to Caprica. Frankly, when I suggested it, I sure wasn't thinking I'd have my own damn ship, or that I'd be second-in-command of this whole Fleet." Lee chuckled weakly. "And I still … I'd be lying if I said it doesn't still scare me. But it will make some things easier. I think my father will take me more seriously when I say this is something we really need to do. Because I know it's important to you. That makes it important to me, too."

Kara tried to think of something to say, something that would convey the depth of her gratitude towards him, but could not. Sam might not have been foremost in her mind since the shooting, or since any of the other events Lee had described, but that didn't mean she'd stopped thinking about him. That didn't mean she prevented herself from wondering, occasionally, what was happening to him or what he was doing. If he was even still alive. She had to believe he was. Had _to. She'd go crazy otherwise, contemplating yet another promise broken._

So instead of verbalizing the thoughts tumbling through her mind, she took Lee's hand and kissed it, pausing to suck at each of his fingers.

His breath hitched slightly, and he cleared his throat. "Um, a simple thank you would suffice."

"Thank you." Kara grinned. "No time, huh?"

"No time, and my son is sitting in your lap."

"Oh. Gotcha."

She could feel him smiling too. "I'm gonna put the ball in your court with this, and let you run with it," Lee told her. "Come up with a plan, write me a report, and present it properly. And don't think you'll get off easy 'cause you're sleeping with the Commander. I want all the i's dotted and all the t's crossed before we take this to the Admiral, and if there's a flaw in your plan, I won't hesitate to point it out."

"Of course, sir." Kara couldn't resist digging her elbow into his ribs. "I wouldn't dream of using my … ah, advantages."

"Uh huh. Right." Lee snickered. "Just get it done, Starbuck."

"Will do, Commander." Sam's features floated into her mind once more, and this time … this time, she could at last look at him without guilt.

She would do it.

She would really, truly do it.

***

Kara smiled momentarily, thinking back to that conversation. Of course, it had taken place before all of this, before the science Raptor went missing and they discovered a new type of Cylon, those so-called Guardians protecting an experimental basestar. At least according to Helo's toaster girlfriend, who was so pregnant now she looked about ready to explode. Well did Kara remember _that_ feeling. Helo had told her that Sharon's gestation had lasted even longer than a typical human pregnancy, by a couple months at least, and the … baby's lungs still weren't fully mature. Cottle, obviously, was completely at sea, relying on Sharon to know instinctively what to do. Strangely, the Cylon _did_ seem to know.

Nonetheless, Kara most certainly didn't envy her. Not by a long shot.

Now, as per Kendra Shaw's plan, Kara and the rest of the strike team were drifting through space toward the experimental basestar. The original hope had been that a diversion created by _Pegasus_ would draw enough Guardians away that their Raptor could slip right through undetected, but as with any risky plan, there were always unexpected problems. Problem number one was that they were now minus one Raptor, and while they had enough thrust to make it to the basestar, they most certainly wouldn't get back without a rescue ride.

Oh, well. She'd worry about that later.

Kara took an opportunity to glance briefly at the stars around her as the team floated closer to the ship. Rarely did she have a chance to interact with space itself on such a … personal level. Usually there were several layers of metal and steel between her and the vacuum, and usually that was how she liked it. But she had to admit there was a certain simplicity and beauty in floating out here like this.

Was that how Lee had felt during his own space walk, after the Resurrection Ship was destroyed?

Most of his initial issues seemed to have resolved, or at least calmed down, with Will's birth, so they hadn't discussed what happened at that time in any great depth. Truthfully, Kara didn't want to bring it up. Hearing him confess that he'd wanted to die was scary, too scary, and maybe she was a coward but dammit, if being a coward meant she could avoid that empty look in his eyes, the dry clamminess of his hand in hers, then she'd be a coward. Something had obviously triggered that hopelessness in him, and Kara still suspected it had to do with his father in some way. _Most_ of Lee's deep-rooted issues could be traced back to his father. She found that tiresome, but also knew she had to accept it.

Clearly Lee was better nowadays, anyway. If he had still wanted to die … he could have. He could have, in the bar on _Cloud Nine_. But the few times she'd raised that night with him — and they were indeed few, as he didn't like to talk about it — Lee had emphasized how hard he'd fought to return to her, and how difficult that had been. He kept saying how much he wanted to see Will grow up, like that was a foregone conclusion. She wished it was, but the unfortunate fact was that nothing could be counted on these days. Not with the jobs they had to do, the lives they'd chosen. Lee might be a little safer now, on the _Pegasus_ bridge, but there was still nothing to say that a bunch of Cylons wouldn't suddenly appear and blow all of them out of the sky.

There was nothing to say that wouldn't happen _today_ , in fact.

But at least he didn't want it. At least he didn't actively seek it. She could deal with the risk, but she couldn't deal with the idea that Lee might try to get himself killed.

Kara tugged her attention abruptly back to the moment, focusing on the solid wall of metal in front of them and cursing her mind for wandering. In a situation like this, even a second's inattention could be fatal.

Shaw was guiding them toward what looked like an airlock, tugging open a door with the assistance of Hudson and DaSilva. It gave easily, and they all slipped inside, pulling it firmly closed behind them before shedding their helmets and flight suits.

"Red One to _Pegasus_ ," said Shaw with a tap to her comlink.

Lee's voice crackled through, loud in the echoing silence. " _Red One, this is_ Pegasus _actual. Report mission and team status_."

"We're in," Shaw told him. "We were able to access an airlock on one of the radial arms. Proceeding toward the core — no contact, no casualties."

They crept along the wall, weapons drawn, trying to keep as quiet as possible. It wasn't easy, with the metal walls and floors, the heat of the place, the ceiling fans spinning lazily overhead. Every footstep seemed to echo. Kara felt sweat beading her brow, trickling down her arms. How big was this place, anyway? How much further would they need to go? The Admiral had tried to provide them with as specific a schematic as possible, but there was no telling whether it was entirely accurate after so many years. No one even knew if this was the same ship, though it had a similar configuration.

Hudson glanced around nervously. "Stay frosty, kiddies. We don't know how many of those toasters they left watching the house."

"Shut your yap, Hudson," Matthias barked. "Maybe we won't have to find out."

"DaSilva, what do you read on thermals?" Kara asked the fifth member of their team.

He paused, squinting at the scanner in his hand. "One heat source, could be biological. Near the core, but that's all." The instrument beeped. "Wait, I'm picking up three or more signatures. Two of them are pretty weak but they're coming from about thirty meters ahead."

Matthias nodded. "Could be our people. Danny, take point."

They scurried down the corridor, pressing tight to the wall, heads on a constant swivel. Never had Kara wished so fervently that she could see ahead of her and behind her at the same time, though she knew they'd have at least some advance warning if the toasters showed up. Cylons, in metal form, weren't exactly known for stealth. But still … still … she'd rather face them head-on than have one shoot her in the back.

Nonetheless, with DaSilva's guidance, the team reached their destination without further incident. They lined up along either side of a doorway, squinting through the gloom and peering over the threshold at Shaw's hand signal. Kara felt her breath catch, and nausea rising in her throat.

"Holy frak," Matthias whispered.

The room was small, cramped, and almost exactly as the Old Man had described. Right down to the weird tubs of goo and the severed, bloodied arm under glass that looked like some kind of museum display gone horribly wrong. But what drew everyone's attention were the examination tables, metal and cold, each holding a human strapped securely down. The civilian crew was there, they were alive, but barely. Blood and sweat streaked their faces, several were trembling, and one appeared to be unconscious.

"Get them out of there, go!" Kara barked, wrenching everyone out of a stupor. She was remembering now, remembering what it had been like at that Farm, and though Adama had tried to warn her, she hadn't listened. Gods, would the Cylons ever stop using innocent people as frakking lab rats?

 _Sam!_ her mind screamed, and to shut it the hell up she snapped out another order. "Get them out of here, come on!"

Hudson, DaSilva and Matthias bustled in, leaving Shaw and Kara to watch the door. The latter swung around to the corridor down which they'd just come, as much to avoid having to see their weakened colleagues as to guard the rear. She heard, anyway, the feeble cries of the prisoners as the straps around their wrists and ankles were loosened and tugged away, their moans when their feet hit the floor, a plaintive "Help us" from someone who had yet to be freed. Kara found her finger venturing to the trigger of her gun, sliding on the metal, as sweat dripped from her forehead into her eyes. Furiously she blinked it away, the thought pushing its way into her mind that maybe they should contact _Pegasus_ to say they'd found the missing crew. Then she wondered how much of that thought had to do with her sudden desire to hear Lee's voice again, to grab hold of it so she could anchor herself. Kara almost rolled her eyes; she was being ridiculous.

DaSilva turned in the midst of leading one of the injured people out of the room, his attention caught by a noise near the back. Shaw opened her mouth, evidently intending to ask what had distracted him, but a second later the question was obviated by a hail of bullets that burst from across the room.

"Cylons!" he yelled.

Kara whipped her head around. Sure enough, there they were, those Cylons that looked even more like walking chrome toasters than the usual Centurions. However, their aim was just as good, and a Marine and one of the survivors had gone down before anyone could draw a breath to speak.

"Everybody out, now!" bellowed Kara as she and Shaw returned fire. No doubt the Major would have something to say to her later about her inattention, but they both knew this wasn't the time. At the moment, their sole concern was survival.

Matthias and DaSilva herded their people into the corridor and Kara found herself the unwilling babysitter of an emaciated man she dimly recognized as being one of the foremost astronomy experts on _Galactica_. Once again, though, questioning the situation was not an option. She fired a short burst of cover fire over her shoulder and draped the man's arm around her neck, helping him to hobble down the corridor. Close by, Matthias and Shaw were doing the same with the other survivors. Which meant … they were one short. _Frak_. Where was DaSilva?

He'd been right behind her a second ago.

She couldn't risk another glance back; they were more than halfway down the hall now, the corner in sight, and Kara had a feeling that if they could just get there in one piece, they might be able to hole up and defend their position more effectively. DaSilva, if he was with them (if he was still alive), would have to fend for himself.

Matthias disappeared around the bend. Kara was next, all but carrying the man, who was having a great deal of difficulty bearing his own weight. Quickly she looked up and down the corridor for signs of other Cylons and, finding none, leaned the man against the wall so she could peer back from whence they'd come.

Shaw had just led her survivor around, and DaSilva … _yes_ , there he was. Hurrying down the hall, stopping every few seconds to shoot at the toasters (who of _course_ had followed them; she wondered why she'd expected anything else), but there, and apparently uninjured. Kara found herself praying under her breath, willing him to move faster, willing him to hurry, willing the shots to keep missing him —

And for a moment, it seemed like everything would be okay. For a moment, it seemed he'd get there, and if he got around the corner like them he would be safe … the Cylons would keep chasing them, but the strike team had the numbers now, and the tactical advantage …

But the moment ended, and brutally so. Kara heard it before she saw it, the ugly sound of bullet meeting flesh, a sound she recalled so vividly from the _Cloud Nine_ disaster, a sound that brought back yet more unwanted memories — _Lee's face scrunching him falling her panicking_ — but instead of Lee, it was DaSilva, a neat circle of red on his chest indicating where the metal had struck home. He crumpled instantly, landing face-down, but still had enough of his wits about him to stretch an arm towards his comrades in supplication of assistance.

"Man down! They got DaSilva!" Hudson cried out, unnecessarily.

Kara cursed and fired a volley of shots at the offending Guardian, which sparked and crackled as it toppled over. That didn't seem to faze the other Cylon, which had a hold on one of DaSilva's ankles and was attempting to drag him back down the hallway. She was just tensing her muscles in preparation for a rescue when Shaw materialized out of nowhere beside her, now unencumbered and raising her weapon directly at DaSilva's head.

As had been the case when Kara shot Lee, she knew exactly what the Major was going to do a second before Shaw acted, and disbelief gutpunched her over and over again. Maybe the action wasn't exactly out of character for her superior, but that didn't make it _right_.

She tried to grab for Shaw's arm, tried to knock her off balance, tried to yell to distract her, but it did no good, and DaSilva slumped, shattered by a single shot to the forehead. The Cylon paused, apparently momentarily confused at the killing, and looked up at them, its red eye swiveling backwards and forwards as it tried to work out the puzzle.

A moment in toaster terms was even less in human terms, though, and the Guardian had raised its own weapon arm before Kara could even recover from the shock of DaSilva's death, a bullet burst forth and found its mark directly in Kendra Shaw's side.

Immediately Kara shook herself and grabbed the Major, hauling her back around the corner and to a somewhat defensible position. There was no longer any question of holding off contacting _Pegasus_ ; they needed an update, and Kara needed some way to save this damned situation and keep it from becoming the catastrophe it was shaping p to be. She tapped her comm unit and spoke hurriedly, raising her voice to be heard above the patter of gunfire. The toaster didn't seem to be coming any closer, at least, which was their one saving grace.

" _Pegasus_ , Red Two! Come in, _Pegasus_!"

Lee's voice crackled forth over the link, sounding tight and concerned. " _Copy, Red Two, but your signal is weak._ "

 _Dammit_. "Recovered two civilians," she shouted. "One dead, two wounded, including the XO! We're pinned down taking heavy fire!"

Lee was saying something else; Kara heard the words "mission" and "come forward," but the rest was lost in a blaze of static. Furiously she beat at her ear, knowing that was ineffectual, knowing it wouldn't make the comms work, but seeing no other option.

" _Pegasus_ , Red Two! Come in, _Pegasus_. _Pegasus_? Frak," she swore as the static winked out and left only silence in its wake.

"Captain, sitrep!"

It was Shaw, leaning heavily against the wall, one hand clutching her abdomen, but looking fairly lucid. _Thank the gods for small miracles_ , Kara thought.

"We just lost communications," she said out loud. "Cylons must be jamming."

"What about the nuke?" demanded Shaw.

"How's that detonator coming, Matthias?" Kara asked.

The other woman shook her head, staring regretfully at the weapon in front of her. "Detonator's fried."

"Get it working!" Kara ordered, then rounded on Shaw. "You want to tell me what the hell that was with DaSilva?"

The Major's face was pinched with pain, but her voice rang out filled with customary strength. "I'll not allow them to take any more prisoners, Captain. You saw what they were doing in there."

Kara shut her eyes momentarily, remembering the state of the civilians in that room, remembering further back, to Sue-Shaun, to the other women flat on their backs with their legs spread. And then she remembered Sue-Shaun's plea, barely audible, begging to be killed because there was simply no other alternative, and she remembered the way she'd whispered last rites into her friend's ear. She remembered the way the woman's eyes had gone blank, the pupils immobilized. Death could be merciful, as simple as flicking a switch.

Or pulling a trigger.

And suddenly she had a whole lot more respect for Kendra Shaw.

"Yes," Kara whispered, her throat scratchy. "I saw."


	43. Chapter 43

_The first time Kara Thrace laid eyes on Kendra Shaw, she knew they weren't going to get along._

Shaw had been on kitchen duty during the induction ceremony, some crazy punishment of Garner's for insubordination, so they didn't have an opportunity to encounter each other there. That was probably a good thing. Kara wouldn't have wanted to ruin Lee's big moment by getting into a fistfight — although it would almost have been worth the price of admission to see the look on his face if she had — and besides, she had been holding Will at the time. Lee had suggested that their son attend and Adama backed him up, both figuring that it was best to put paid to any rumours now by placing their family situation right out in the open, and allowing their fellow officers to judge as they pleased. It wasn't going to go away, it wasn't going to change, so they might as well accept it now. Privately Kara agreed, despite the ribbing she knew she'd have to endure when Lee wasn't present. But she was Starbuck. She could handle that.

The looks of surprise on some people's faces as she stood beside Lee with Will were amusing to Kara, and helped to sustain her through the rather boring speech Laura Roslin gave about courage and responsibility. Clearly, despite the existence of the betting pool among the pilots, most hadn't suspected that Lee and Kara had gone that _far. But it was blatantly obvious to everyone in attendance that they were a unit, that Lee was Will's father and Kara Will's mother. Some faces showed tension, others disdain, still others a feigned indifference. She knew they all had their opinions, though. Everybody always had an opinion about something._

You could have cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife by the time Lee stepped up to the podium to give his own speech. Some of the officers were only partially hiding glares, evidently disturbed at how the ironclad frat regs were being flouted. Kara stared right back, daring them to say something, daring them to protest, but in the end, it was Will who provided the necessary balm to smooth over the gathering.

As his father opened his mouth to speak, the infant reached tiny hands toward Lee, squirming in Kara's arms, and yelled out loudly enough for everyone on the hangar deck to hear, "DA!"

There was a brief, almost stunned silence, and then a hastily-stifled snicker from someone — to Kara's surprise, one of the sternest-looking officers was hiding a grin behind his hand. More chuckling echoed around the hall, like little fires breaking out, and as though that had been a signal, the assemblage erupted in laughter. True, some of them only indulged in the hilarity once or twice before becoming fiercely guarded again, but the tension had been broken, and Will beamed up at his mother like he'd planned the whole thing.

After that, the crowd seemed much more receptive.

But Kendra Shaw had not attended the ceremony, so she had not been among those who'd borne witness to that moment. Later, Kara doubted it would have made a difference if she had.

Instead, Shaw and Kara met each other at a time that could have been far more compromising, and Kara knew the Major had formed her initial impressions based upon that first encounter.

To the Marines who stood on perpetual guard outside the new Commander's quarters, it was nothing new. They had come to understand that not only did Captain Thrace live with Commander Adama, it was also not unusual for her to emerge from the Commander's quarters at odd times throughout the day, sometimes looking slightly disheveled. They paid no attention to this, mostly. What the Commander did on his own time was not their business, and therefore unimportant so long as he was doing his job — which he excelled at. Most of the pilots, deck crew and other staff also became quickly accustomed to the relationship between two of the top brass. It was an open one, but neither did they flaunt it. If the Commander hurried down to the flight deck and embraced Captain Thrace after a difficult CAP, that was nothing out of the ordinary. If Captain Thrace showed up at the Commander's hatch, she was to be admitted, no matter the time of day. And if — as occasionally happened — a soft moan or a breathy gasp filtered out through that hatch, the prudent action was to ignore it, and pretend to be intensely intrigued by the metal corrugation opposite. The Marines learned these lessons rapidly, and they respected them.

But Kara understood why someone like Shaw might have issues. That didn't mean anything was going to change, though.

So when Kara emerged from their quarters looking, once again, a bit disheveled and pink in the face, she was pleased to note that neither Marine stationed by the hatch paid her any heed. The same could not be said for Lieutenant Shaw, however, who was making her way down the corridor from the opposite direction.

Shaw came to a halt just beyond the doorway, looking Kara up and down with a gaze that could be said to contain, at best, condemnation, and at worst, censure. Shaw's eyes flicked toward the hatch, and it wasn't hard to see that she was putting pieces together.

Kara couldn't help but bristle. Regardless of the status of her relationship with Lee, at that particular moment, nothing had actually happened _. Lee had called her in to discuss her new position as CAG, and to go over some of the staff appointments he was making. Sure, there had been some … other activities, though nothing major. Some passionate kissing, making good use of those leather couches, and a lot of groping and panting and gasping on both their parts, but it didn't go any further. They were on duty, after all, and neither of them wanted to compromise the integrity of that fact. Lee, typical tightass, had been the first to break away, the first to shake his head and attempt to calm his breathing (rather difficult, Kara imagined, as she had been sitting astride him at the time). He had a meeting with his new XO in a matter of moments, and he wanted to look — here Lee glanced to his lap and back up again with unmistakable meaning — presentable._

Kara was quite proud of her parting shot in that regard: "Guess you'll just have to stay sitting down, huh, Commander _?" An added benefit had been that the hatch was open at the time, so she got to enjoy the small shuffling and coughing sounds of the Marines as they tried to ignore her._

But now, she was face-to-face with Shaw, and Shaw's glare. Kara tipped her chin up, tucked a loose strand of hair jauntily behind her ear, and smirked widely before turning and marching off in the opposite direction.

Let Shaw make of that what she would.

***

Present tense.

Emphasis on _tense_ , Kara thought as she tried to make herself focus, tried to call some of that vaunted out-of-the-box thinking into being. They were on an experimental basestar, with one of their team killed, another one injured, civilians who needed rescuing, no contact with home base, a dead nuke, and in desperate need of a ride to come pluck them out of this hellhole.

Unsurprisingly, her mind was recalcitrant in providing a solution.

 _Okay. Okay._

Think, Thrace.

Their top priority, if no Raptor showed up, had to be following their orders and completing the mission. Which meant blowing up the basestar, assuming Matthias could get the nuke working. Of course, that also meant they'd blow themselves up.

Gods.

She swallowed against the fear prickling her stomach.

The Major would want that, if they had no other option. She wouldn't have any qualms about turning herself into a human fireworks display, because she had proven to Kara over and over that she was that kind of person. Kara, though … well, once she might have wanted that too. Once, she might have agreed to it, because part of her had always hoped that would be the way she'd go out: in a blaze of glory, dying to preserve the security of the fleet. Sacrificing herself, because that was what people expected of a good soldier, and she might be a screw-up but she was also a _damn_ good soldier. In her more morbid moments she'd even allowed herself to wonder if she might meet Zak on the other side. What would he say to her, if he knew what she'd done for him? What would he say if he _didn't_ know?

But now, things were somewhat different. Now, Kara couldn't help but feel (stupid, yes) that she wasn't ready to be done with her life yet. There were too many other things she had to accomplish. She had to rescue Sam. She had to keep protecting the fleet. She had to participate in the neverending search for Earth.

And there was Lee.

She knew innately that her death would crush him. Even if he understood the reasons for it, even if the soldier in him agreed it was the right call.

And there was Will.

She would roll her eyes every time Lee talked about wanting to see their son grow up, but part of her wondered whether that reaction was simply to mask her own insecurities, her own rarely-expressed desire for the same thing.

Holding onto attachments like that was not smart when you could get killed any day of the week.

But since when had Kara Thrace ever been _smart?_

More gunfire roused her, and she glanced downward, where Shaw was still reclining against the wall. This time, though, her superior's eyes had slipped closed, and she appeared to be unconscious.

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit._

Kara bent and roughly slapped Shaw's cheek. "Major!"

The other woman jerked awake, sluggishly. Kara knew Shaw must be losing blood, but if there was one thing they most definitely didn't have access to at the moment, it was a fully-equipped medical facility. Shaw would either wait until they could get to one, or she would die. If they were going for the former option, it was important that the Major stay awake.

"Watch those quarters, Hudson!" Matthias shouted to their comrade, who was stationed on the other side of the corridor trying to fend off the approaching Guardians. The first one had been joined by two others, which greatly leveled the odds in the Cylons' favour but didn't do much from the humans' point of view. If they didn't manage to score direct head shots, they wouldn't need to wait for the nuke to kill them.

Kara abruptly decided it was time to try the comms again, and tapped urgently at the link-up in her ear. " _Pegasus_ , Red Two! Come in!"

A bullet whistled past, close enough that it would've shorn her nose off if she hadn't jerked back reflexively.

 _If it didn't hit, it didn't happen._

Kara sucked in a breath; the ominous silence of the comms line was beginning to clear, being replaced by static, and then … Hoshi's voice, from _Pegasus_.

She couldn't think when she'd ever been more glad to hear him.

A moment later Lee was on the line, and he sounded breathless, like he'd run halfway across the ship to get to the communications console. There were also overtones of something else in his voice — fear? Desperation? Guilt? Relief? — but she didn't have time to puzzle over those as he spoke. " _Yes, Red Two, this is_ Pegasus _actual. Starbuck, report!_ "

"Still pinned down, but holding on!" Kara barked into the comlink. "Tell me there's a ride waiting for us!"

" _On their way, Red Two._ " The strain was definitely there now in Lee's tone. Someone else might not have noticed it, but she did. " _And the Raiders have broken off their attack. They'll be headed to you any second now._ "

"Roger that." She tried to layer her response with reassurance, but wasn't sure if it had worked or not. Kara herself was feeling distinctly jittery now. "We don't have a lot of time," she said, and severed the link before he could respond, before she could hear any more of that unnatural fear.

At her feet, Shaw had slumped into unconsciousness again, and Kara bent once more to smack her awake. As her hand made contact with the Major's cheek, she recalled with a grim smile all the times she had wanted to do exactly what she was doing now, for far less altruistic reasons.

What would Tigh say about her "hitting a superior asshole" at _this_ moment?

***

 _For entertainment purposes, Kara started keeping a mental record of all the times Kendra Shaw outright infuriated her._

By the end of their first day serving together, she had lost count.

Shaw was doubtless a competent officer, and in other circumstances Kara might actually have grown to like her. She didn't take any bullshit, a characteristic Kara also prided herself on possessing. And Shaw wasn't afraid to stand up to Lee, which made their interactions most interesting. They had a different dynamic than that of Bill Adama and Saul Tigh, who trusted each other implicitly as both best friends and lifelong comrades. Lee and Shaw trusted each other as officers, but that was about as far as it went. Shaw had made it blatantly clear that she believed Lee was a soft touch, to his detriment, and while Kara agreed at times, she figured it also wasn't her business to bug Lee about how he chose to run his battlestar — beyond the teasing jibes she leveled at him as Starbuck. Shaw went further, but since her duty above all was to respect Lee's decisions, she did not question him once he'd given an order. In that context, she couldn't easily complain about his relationship with Kara, so she turned to the next available target for that: Kara herself.

Shaw's disapproval took the form of a concerted effort to ride Kara's ass and complain about everything she did, not to mention cataloguing every time Kara broke regs. Starbuck got dinged by the Major for everything from showing up five minutes late to morning briefing to walking the corridors with her jacket unbuttoned to the messiness of her flight schedules to public displays of affection (that incident occurring when she'd kissed Lee on the hangar deck after he came down to surprise her following CAP one day). When the childcare centre called her on duty once to come get Will because he'd taken ill, she had been summoned to the XO's office the next morning for a dressing-down by the Major. At that point Kara and Lee had been up all night caring for the baby, who seemed to have some kind of stomach flu, so she was not feeling her most charitable when she had to face Shaw with Will slung over her shoulder, hiccupping and whining miserably. It was perhaps for this reason that she'd talked back when she shouldn't have, earning herself a day's stay in the brig. Or maybe it was Will barfing on her uniform while she was speaking with her superior that had done it. Regardless, every day Shaw seemed to find a new way of getting on her back, and Kara was sick of it.

"You need to learn to work with her," Lee cajoled when she confronted him about the situation. "I know you have a problem getting along with superiors, Kara, but she's the XO. That's not going to change, not even if you decide you want the position. Just try not to punch her."

Kara scowled, and he scowled back, although that might have been because Will had just managed to smear vomit into his hair.

So she was stuck, and the sojourn in hack convinced her that she'd better learn to live with the situation, somehow _. It sure wasn't easy coexisting with someone who so clearly disrespected her choices, but Lee was right about one thing: Kara_ had _had her own shot at the Executive Officer's position on_ Pegasus _, and she'd turned it down._

Her reasoning at the time had been that the appointment would have overstepped the bounds of what was acceptable based on their close relationship. She was surprised Lee had even offered her the position — she'd expected him to be much more cautious about appearances — and while part of her wanted to say yes, wanted to cement the idea that they could work closely together professionally as well as personally, the other part understood, if grudgingly, that there were politics involved here too. For a battlestar just a couple months removed from Helena Cain's legacy, the idea of a Commander and an XO who were romantically entangled might be a bit much to stomach.

Besides, there was no getting around the fact that the XO assignment was basically a trumped-up desk job. It meant no more Vipers, and no more Starbuck, and no more flying.

And that _was something she simply couldn't abide._

So Kara had told him no, and he went and picked Kendra Shaw instead, and the fact that Kara was still flying felt like barely enough to make up for the way Shaw was treating her.

The Major found ways to make Starbuck's Viper a prison as well, without even trying.

Not only did she criticize the CAG's technique, complain about her takeoffs and landings, and grouse about how sloppy the squadron was, Shaw also did not hesitate to put the lives of Starbuck's pilots in danger when it served the fleet's best interest. The Major could be downright scary at times. Scary, and rule-abiding, and cold.

Shaw proved that the first time they encountered the strange Cylon Guardian ship, during a routine patrol where Starbuck and Case had been sent to see if they could find any signs of the missing civilian science crew. The Raptor was nowhere to be found, and it would've been a boring patrol had the toasters not decided to jump in and make things interesting. Worse still, they pursued the Vipers right up close to the Beast. Starbuck knew she could handle it, knew she'd pull it out of the fire somehow — she always did — but evidently that wasn't enough for Shaw. Kara found out as soon as she landed that the XO had been the one to order the close-range barrage that almost turned Starbuck and Showboat into dark burn marks on the side of Pegasus _. That felt like the last straw._

Lee had come down to the flight deck, as was his custom whenever a mission went badly, and Kara barely waited until he'd embraced her and kissed her before unloading. "Lee, you want someone to blame for almost offing me, she's right over there!" She pointed to where Major Shaw was standing a few feet away, ostensibly examining a post-flight checklist. Kara knew she was really listening in.

Lee's features took on a familiar long-suffering expression. "Kara, don't start —"

"For frak's sake, it's like she was trying _to get us killed!" Kara barreled on. She didn't particularly care to hear whatever justifications he planned to offer._ He _wasn't the one who'd almost gotten his ass roasted out there._

"Major Shaw has the authority to take any action she feels necessary to protect this ship," he reminded her.

"She's a loose cannon!" snapped Kara.

"And she's also the XO," Lee gritted out. He was in full Commander mode now. "And frankly, ordering that barrage probably saved your skin."

She shoved him aside, and pushed away the medic who was hovering, trying to attend to her bloodied lip. "Forgive me if I don't say thanks!"

Lee shot her a quelling look. "Come on, Kara, just —"

"Don't!" The time had come to deal with this, head-on. If it got her thrown in hack again, well, she'd just be thrown in hack again. At least she wouldn't be trying to simultaneously nurse her sick child back to health.

"You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking?" Kara demanded of the Major, having crossed the hangar deck in about two strides to where Shaw stood.

Her superior looked up coolly. "It was a nice bit of flying, Captain. But I'd think twice about questioning my tactical orders."

Her tactical _— "Tactical orders? That's what you call blowing the crap out of your own pilots?"_

There was a pause, during which a very ugly smile formed suddenly on Shaw's face.

She could have taught Tigh a thing or two, and that was saying something.

Shaw pushed her way into Kara's space, still wearing that frosty smirk. "Questioning orders is a bad idea on this ship, Captain."

Kara couldn't have said why, and she wouldn't have admitted it to anyone except herself, but she suddenly felt a very cold chill slither up her spine. There was something distinctly menacing in the Major now, something that was very like a veiled threat — and not the kind of threat you could simply slough off or talk back to. For a moment she couldn't figure it out, and then she realized she had seen the same look on Cain's face when the latter confronted her about her pregnancy. The look that said: I know all your secrets. And I will make you pay for them. __

She conjured Starbuck as Lee pulled them apart, and it was only with Starbuck's help that Kara could glare right back at Shaw, could make her think that her words had meant nothing to a Viper pilot full to the brim with bravado.

But the XO's words echoed in her mind.

Questioning orders is a bad idea on this ship, Captain.

***

In the metal corridor of the basestar, with the temperature mounting and Shaw awake again, Kara turned to Matthias and Hudson. "Evac Raptor's on its way. They want us to set the nuke and get the hell out."

Matthias shook her head, regret and fright sharing equal space on her features. "That's gonna be a problem," she said, gesturing at the weapon. "Remote detonator's definitely shot."

"Can you rig a manual trigger?" Shaw spoke up.

"Probably," Matthias nodded.

"Then do it."

Kara whipped her head around; she had been glancing back and forth from Matthias to Shaw like she was at a pyramid match. But the Major's words made her stop. _Set the nuke off manually?_ How the hell were they supposed to do that? She remembered the same idea had occurred to her earlier, but that was when they were pinned down, when they'd lost communication with _Pegasus_ , when rescue seemed impossible. Now that they had a hope, shouldn't they at least try to save the civilians they'd rescued? The Beast could fire off a nuke of its own once they were safely off the Guardians' basestar, couldn't it?

But she realized she knew the answer to that question almost before she'd finished asking it. Lee had told her in his last transmission that the Raiders weren't taking the bait anymore, that they had started heading back towards the basestar. The toasters would probably send more Guardians in to protect the ship, and the Raiders would hover outside, prepared to shoot down any nuke the humans fired. So if there was going to be an explosion, if they were going to complete all parts of their mission, that had to come from the inside. From _their_ nuke.

Shaw had been right.

Still, Kara couldn't help asking for clarification. "Do it? What the hell are you talking about?"

Shaw's gaze was firm and uncompromising, not unlike the look she'd shot Kara on the hangar deck several days ago. "We are completing this mission. Am I clear, soldier?"

Chastened, Kara took a breath. "Yes, sir."

A different voice blared suddenly over the radio. It belonged to the Admiral. " _Red Team,_ Pegasus _. Evac ETA two minutes._ "

Another deep breath and Kara nodded, understanding with more cold chills that her upcoming transmission would not be pleasant. She flicked on her comlink. "This is Red Two, give me actual."

Hoshi patched her through, and a moment later, she heard Lee again. He no longer seemed to be making any attempts to control the fear in his voice, which freaked her out a bit. " _Red Two, this is actual, what's taking you so long? Starbuck, they're gonna be on you any second!_ "

Kara unclenched her teeth, knowing innately that Shaw was watching her again. "Our nuke's remote detonator is still fried. We're gonna have to cook it off by hand. Red One is still down for the count, which doesn't give us many options." She paused, a conversation from the previous night flitting through her mind. And she didn't want to say the next words because she knew where they'd lead, but dammit, dammit, the mission needed to come first.

"What are your orders, sir?"

There was an equally long pause at the other end of the line, and in that pause was everything he wanted to tell her and couldn't.

 _I love you._

Please don't make me do this. Please, please, please.

Will needs his mother.

I _need you._

I love you. I love you.

She heard him in the background, trying to find a way out, asking Hoshi if they could use the missile still in their launch tubes, coming to the same conclusion Kara had about the impossibility of that idea. There was also a quiet rumble, a rumble she recognized as Adama's tones, and his voice was grim even as it attempted to comfort. They were, quite simply, out of options.

" _This is your team, son_ ," the Old Man said softly, filtering over the link. " _You make the call._ "

Gods. _Gods._

Lee.

Her arms ached to hold him.

Perhaps they had been headed here ever since they'd first decided to serve on the _Pegasus_ together, but that didn't make this any easier.

And she knew, even before he broke the silence, what his decision would be.

Because he was Commander Lee Adama.

And he had to put the fleet first.

She would've _begged_ him to put the fleet first.

 _Don't think about me._

You were right.

Just make the call.

Kara heard the intake of breath over the line, and knew he'd decided.

" _Red Two, this is_ Pegasus _actual_ ," and she wondered how Lee could have a catch in his voice but still sound so authoritative at the same time. " _Get the XO, get your men and get to the evac coordinates._ "

There was a very pregnant pause.

Kara listened.

" _Secure your men, and detonate the warhead using the manual trigger. Complete your mission, Captain._ "

Well, there it was.

Lee had ordered her to die.

She understood innately that she had it easy. Much easier than he did. Her life was over now, but his would have to go on. He wouldn't find her on the hangar deck anymore. He'd order the nameplate on her Viper painted over. An empty bed would wait for him in their quarters tonight, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.

Weirdly, Kara found herself thinking that there wouldn't be a word to describe Lee. _Widower_ didn't work, because they weren't married. He would just … _be_. Exist. Without her.

Like she existed without Zak.

But there was nothing anybody could do about that. And Shaw was watching her once more.

"Understood," Kara said crisply, turning immediately to Matthias. "Sergeant! Get ready to move out!"

Matthias nodded, locked down the nuke.

Kara then knelt to collect Shaw. The Major wore an expression as close to surprise as Kara had ever seen from her.

But she didn't have time to ask about that.

"Get on your feet, and I'll get you out of here."


	44. Chapter 44

_"Lords, Lee, if I didn't know better I'd say you were getting some from your XO on the side," Kara remarked with a grin._

Lee paused mid-thrust to glare at her, his jaw clenched. "That's not funny, Kara."

"Oh yeah?" Her smirk remained. She couldn't help it — he hadn't even climaxed once yet, and she was working on number three. "Then would you mind explaining to me where all this weird stamina's coming from?"

"I have no idea, okay? No godsdamned idea!" He sounded genuinely angry now.

"Lords, sorry. Touchy." Kara smoothed his hair and drifted her hand to cup the back of his neck, which was usually all he needed to ease any tension he might be feeling. Living with him, she'd learned that worked.

Tonight, though, it seemed ineffectual. Lee merely bent his head to her breast and picked up the pace, thrusting at a clip that would have set up a rapid thrumming of headboard against wall paneling, if it had been close enough. But nothing irritated Kara more than that sound, so they'd moved the bed out on their second night in the Commander's quarters.

She arched with pleasure as he swirled his tongue about her nipple, and hissed out a sibilant "Yessss" at the scrape of teeth across the sensitive flesh. That, combined with the extra stimulation provided by the rapid pull-push of his motions against her clit, was more than enough to send her tumbling over the edge, again, again, again. His name was a gasp at her lips.

Kara lay there, sated, sweat drying on her body, and watched him continue his efforts, more for himself than for her this time. His eyes were focused, determined, almost like he was trying to will it to happen, but she could tell from the tension in his back that fulfillment was still much too far away. Impulsively she raised her boneless legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him deeper, changing the angle. Sometimes, occasionally, that worked for her when she couldn't get off.

But Lee shook his head and stilled, pulling out and slumping to the mattress beside her.

"Forget it, Kara," he muttered softly. "It's not gonna happen for me tonight. Just — just forget it. You're good, right?"

She boosted herself up on an elbow and looked him over appraisingly, from the sparse droplets of sweat on his forehead, to the healing scar on his shoulder, to another, more significant area. He was already softening.

"All right, out with it," she barked. "What are you worrying about?"

"What?"

"The only time you ever have these, ah, 'equipment malfunctions,' Lee, is when you're freaking out about something." Kara continued to stare. "So, what's going on? I mean, gods, I haven't said anything about the Major in two whole days, which has _to be a record for me."_

"It's not about Shaw."

Now she knew for sure he was lying. A familiar muscle twitched in his cheek.

"Yeah, and if I believe that, I bet you've got a gently-used Delphi museum display I'd be interested in, huh?"

"Kara."

"Lee-e," she mimicked, smacking him lightly.

His gaze skipped to her face, then to the doorway of the next room where Will slept, and finally to the ceiling overhead. "You already know, anyway."

"I do?" She blinked, and her eyes widened as dawning comprehension stole over her. "You mean the mission? You're actually scared of the mission? Gods, you are so predictable."

"Not. Scared." The words were bitten out from between clenched teeth. "Just … I'm not sure how good of an idea it is, putting Kendra in charge. Or having you on the same team."

"What, you think we'll kill each other or something?"

"No, but I do know she's reckless, and that she tends to act before she thinks. Nothing is more important to her than the order she's been given, which I suppose is Cain's legacy. I understood that going in, but in practice … it's a bit much to take."

"Lee, I'm not gonna end up with her knife in my back, if that's what you're saying."

He was silent for a long moment, and she was about to start firing questions at him again when Lee looped his arm around her, pulling her down to lie on his chest. Kara tucked her head underneath his chin and moved her own arm over his abdomen, drifting to caress up and down his side. He shivered slightly, and she smiled, pleased to know he at least had that much in him.

"What, you don't believe me?" Kara asked as an addition to her last statement.

"Of course I believe you." Lee was stroking her hair now. "I just … I don't know. I appointed Kendra XO because I thought it was the right thing to do. But sometimes the right thing …"

"Sucks?" she suggested, and he laughed.

"That and a lot of other things," Lee said. "I guess I've been overthinking this too much. Trying to imagine what I'd do if something went wrong, and it just keeps going around in my mind, I guess."

"Right, because you've never overthought anything before in your entire life," Kara quipped.

It was his turn to smack her. "Shut up."

"Shutting, sir." She snickered.

Lee sighed, and tugged her even closer. Kara listened to him breathe, in and out, her eyes skimming over his chest and not quite able to skip the scar. It was just a thin red line now, the bruising around it having faded through a period of weeks from a disparate palette of purples and yellows to a lighter shade of yellow and then, to his natural colouring. The scar wouldn't fade, though. It would always be there, a reminder of how she'd marked him. A physical manifestation of her remaining internal guilt.

She moved her hand then, up to his chest, feeling soft scattered hair against her palm and ridged muscle as she slid it down. He'd kept up with his exercise regime, despite the fact that he wasn't flying anymore. So like Lee. Kara couldn't help continuing, going lower, pausing to circle his navel.

"Be careful," Lee murmured, and at her confused expression he clarified. "On the mission. Be careful on the mission. Okay?"

"You know me, Lee. Careful is my middle name."

He sighed once more. "That's what I'm talking about."

"Chill, sir. It'll be fine."

"Yeah." But there was that tone in his voice again, like he didn't quite believe her. "I don't want to … I can't be a single father, Kara. I can't."

A shiver crept down her spine at the way Lee put this so plainly, like that was what he'd been worrying about all along. Maybe it was. Part of her wanted to scoff, wanted to tell him there was no room for feelings of nervousness and doubt on the eve of a major mission like this. There wasn't, not really, but it would be harder for him having to stand in CIC and listen to her carry it out. Kara wanted to promise him, wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but she couldn't guarantee it. There were risks that everybody lived with, and at some point you just had to stop being afraid and face them.

So she didn't answer, choosing instead to put more intent behind her hand as it headed south.

"I already told you I'm not getting there tonight," he mumbled when she cupped him.

"Yeah, well, if at first you don't succeed …" Kara let the sentence trail, because she was willing to at least try, and even if he didn't get off from it, he'd still enjoy himself. He needed to forget. She did. They both did. If they had this moment, they could go on pretending she wouldn't be on an experimental Cylon basestar tomorrow, with one thousand and one things that could go wrong.

"Relax," she hissed a few minutes later. His breathing was beginning to speed up, but she could still sense tension in him, his body taut as a bowstring.

"I'm trying _," Lee snapped, and his voice was slightly husky, so she knew they must be getting somewhere._

"Yeah, well, try harder," said Kara. She pinched the tip of him between her finger and thumb, pleased at his stuttering groan. "Figuratively and _literally, by the way."_

Something about that statement made him laugh, though Kara wasn't sure if it was the tension finding culmination or her lame pun. Either way, after that, Lee seemed a lot more receptive to her attentions.

She smiled as he finally swelled in her hand, blood-warm and heavy and deliciously thick. Gods, she enjoyed this as much as he did, in her own way. Yet this encounter wasn't frantic or hurried or about any kind of fight for dominance, the way things sometimes went between them. She was making him come apart, inexorably, and she was the only one allowed to see him like this.

Kara stroked him slowly, languidly, repeating a motion every so often when he arched beneath her, or huffed out a breath, or whispered "Yeah" and "Right there." Then there was moisture on her fingers, and she slipped down his body to take him into her mouth, tongue swirling, hand on hip holding him in place. Always such a treat to see the control freak lose it, if only for a little while.

Lee did soon enough, when she reached up to his chest, found a nipple, pinched it firmly. He grunted — there was that delicious catch in his breath — his hand fisted in the sheet — and he spilled over, his eyes shut, as she drank him in, swallowing again, again, again.

He kissed Kara when she moved back to lie beside him, smiling contentedly.

After, Lee slept.

Kara, full of his thoughts, did not.

***

Kara's arm was slick with sweat, or maybe blood; she couldn't tell. Probably it was blood, if the severity of Shaw's wound was any indication. The front of the Major's black uniform was sullied with an even darker stain. She didn't have much time, but neither did she need it. When they got to the evac coordinates, a Raptor would be waiting, and Shaw would be whisked straight to sickbay as soon as it returned to _Pegasus_. She'd be fine.

Kara told herself that because she didn't want to believe anything different.

She had the Major draped over her as they walked — well, really, Kara was doing most of the walking for both of them — and the corridor seemed interminable, Matthias and Hudson already some distance ahead. The Guardians clanked behind them, meaning that every few moments Kara had to whip around and get off some cover fire, which slowed them down further. But they would get there. They _would_. The alternative was just unthinkable. Starbuck did not believe in failure.

Finally, after what she would have called _hours_ had she not known better, they reached the airlock. Hudson, the survivors and most of the remaining Marines had already scuttled through to wait for the rescue Raptor, leaving only Matthias, who was still frantically fiddling with the nuke. Kara levered Shaw down to the floor to check on the status of the manual detonator, then took advantage of her unencumbered hands to nail both the toasters. They crumpled instantly.

She glanced back to Matthias and the Major; they were still huddled over the nuclear weapon. No other imminent threats were in sight, so Kara skulked to the opposite side of the corridor and flicked open a link on her comm unit.

"Private line to the Commander, Hoshi," she muttered when the communications officer answered. He told her to wait a moment while he connected her.

It was such a stupid cliché, and Kara knew it. But she also couldn't help herself. She owed Lee something _positive_ , dammit. A memory that he could have of her, something he might fall back on when grief got to be a little too overwhelming. She had memories like that for Zak. Lee deserved at least that much.

"Lee?" Kara whispered after a click at the other end of the line.

"Yeah." His voice was rough, grating, like he'd been screaming for hours. "Kara, are you —"

"Shut up, all right?" She could see from the activity around the weapon that final adjustments were being made. "Just shut up and let me say this. In my locker in our quarters, there's a black cloth near the back, with two idols of Artemis and Aphrodite all wrapped up. I want you to take them and give them to Will when he's old enough. They're —" Kara bit her lip, emotions threatening for the very first time. She shoved them immediately down. "They're my prayer idols. Put them somewhere safe until he can understand what they mean. Can you do that for me?"

"Kara …" A deep, shuddery breath, a pause, and then: "Okay. All right. I'll — I'll take care of it. I promise."

"There's also a picture," Kara said, talking faster now. "A picture, near the idols, of you and me and Zak. That's yours now, you got it? It's from that day we went to play pyramid, after he and I just got engaged. You deserve it, Lee, okay?"

"Right." It sounded like he was forcing his words out again.

"Tell the kid —" She took another breath. "Tell him I'm okay. Tell him it's not your fault. Don't you _dare_ try saying this is your fault, godsdammit. If you do I'm coming back and haunting the _frak_ out of you. Actually, I'm gonna do that anyway, so you're stuck with me. Zak and I'll look in on you guys as much as we can, all right?"

"Kara, I love you." Lee said that in a rush, as though he was afraid he might not be able to talk coherently for much longer. "I love you so … frakking much …"

His voice cracked, and she wasn't sure if it was him or the transmission.

Either way, this had to end.

"I love you too," Kara replied, and paused as well. "Look, you know I'm not one for big mushy goodbyes. Just take care of the kid. Be a good dad _and_ a good mom. Or I'll put a bullet in your head, dammit. Tell the Old Man I love him."

"I love you," he said again. He was just repeating it, like a litany, and she took the opportunity to freeze it in her mind, because she wanted his voice to be the last thing she thought of.

"I love you," she whispered.

And Kara flicked the comlink off.

Shaw was looking at her again.

Kara was about to make a caustic comment when she noticed Matthias had disappeared through the airlock. It was just her and the Major now. Well, this was it.

"Get going, sir," she bit out, crossing the corridor to check the nuke. It showed as ready.

Behind her, there was an ominous click.

She turned, slowly, part of her already knowing what she'd see.

Shaw was holding a pistol. Pointing it at Kara's head.

"Go on, Captain," she directed, her voice stiff from pain. "Leave the nuke, if you don't mind."

Kara felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. "What the _frak_ are you doing?" she demanded.

"Completing the mission," the Major replied. She reached into a pouch at her waist, and pulled out a small pocket knife with a wooden handle. "Take it. I don't need it anymore."

Stunned, Kara caught the knife. Fumbled and almost dropped it with her next breath.

"Major —"

"I just gave you an order, soldier." Shaw's — no, no, _Kendra's_ — face was uncompromising. "Unless you wanna leave your son without a mother, I suggest you obey it. _Go._ "

Kara gasped in a breath, then another, feeling like an iron vise had closed around her lungs. Kendra was volunteering to finish the mission? Kendra was going to stay behind and set off the nuke, even though Lee had ordered Kara to do it? She struggled to make her mind understand, to adjust to this new information.

She'd be spared.

She could go back to Will.

To _Lee_.

But Kendra had always disapproved of that. She'd also made her disapproval clear. So what the _hell_ was going on?

"Why?" Kara choked out.

"You know damn well why. You've got a baby to raise. A legacy to carry on. I don't." Kendra curved her lips upwards in a small smile. "I told you we make our choices. You made yours when you decided to build a family. It's only fair I respect that."

 _What about Lee's choice?_ Kara wanted to ask, but she knew this wasn't the time. Knew, in fact, that she had been offered the most precious of gifts. Her son's life. The chance to see him grow up, just like Lee had said, into the person he was going to be. On the surface, and deeper down, Kendra was right. Both Lee and Will needed Kara. The fleet needed Starbuck. Sam needed Kara too. But how could you start making those judgments? How could you randomly decide that one life was worth more, or less, than another?

Would Kendra's decision have been different if Kara hadn't had Will, hadn't been the hotshot pilot? Would Lee's?

She couldn't answer those questions. Maybe nobody could.

"Put on your suit, you're about to run out of air," Kendra ordered.

The airlock swished open. Kara's feet were moving of their own accord, making her step through.

"It's been an honour, Captain," Kendra said through the glass. And saluted.

Kara returned the gesture without hesitation.

The knife was heavy in her pocket.


	45. Chapter 45

_Early in the morning, Kara still drifted between sleep and wakefulness, Lee spooned up behind her, clutching her body to his own like she was a lifeline. His light snores in her ear indicated he was out cold, and probably had been for quite some time._

Lucky him.

She'd been lying there for hours waiting for sleep to come, but so far it was proving most uncooperative. It was almost like, in letting Lee talk to her and in jerking him off, she'd become a conduit for everything that was worrying him, and all of those thoughts kept churning through her mind. Kara really didn't like that. She wasn't a thinking kind of person. She did not dwell. She did not obsess about things the way Lee was sometimes wont to do.

But there seemed to be so much to consider now. Their love, and how it had survived several misunderstandings, an unexpected trip to Caprica, a mutiny, both their family situations, a baby, a transfer, an unforgiving Admiral, a near-death experience, the black market, a misdirected bullet, and a command position. All told, that was rather impressive. Kara had honestly not believed that she and Lee could possibly work, but the last months had proven her wrong, and eloquently so.

He made her want to strive for the future. She'd previously been accustomed to existing mainly in the present; it was the smartest thing given her profession, and Lee's. There was no point in looking back, since the past held Zak and other things she would rather not think about. Neither was there any point in looking forward. As a pilot, she might not have _a tomorrow._

So why was she looking ahead now?

Why was she engaging in the activity she'd laughed so hard at others for: imagining a bright shiny future?

She remembered telling Lee on the Astral Queen _that in no way was she the type to settle down with a porch swing, a dog, two-point-five kids and a big backyard. Kara still didn't consider herself that. She never would be, if she could help it. But that didn't mean she wasn't starting to have goals. Make plans._

Kara wanted to see her son grow up.

She wanted to keep on loving Lee Adama, for as long as he'd have her.

She wanted to fly.

She wanted to protect the fleet.

She wanted to find Earth.

And perhaps … some distance in the future …

Perhaps they'd finally be able to set down somewhere, somewhere that had proper days and nights and grass under your feet and a cool breeze that did not smell of air that had been recycled five thousand times.

Perhaps they'd vanquish the Cylons, once and for all.

Maybe … maybe …

Maybe, one day, she'd tie herself to Lee more permanently. Marriage permanently, though that scared the shit out of her still.

Maybe they'd have another kid. One thing was for sure, she wouldn't be faced with the same sort of decision she'd had to make with Will, if she did conceive again. President Roslin's recent ban on abortion ensured that any child would now be carried to term, and kept, because Kara doubted Lee would go for adoption. She _sure wouldn't._

But all of those things were definitely future things. She was not ready to think about any of them right now. Right now her thoughts were more immediate: survive the mission to blow up the experimental basestar. Then, put the finishing touches on her plan to return to Caprica and rescue Sam. Any discussion of the future, any _discussion, would need to wait until both of those tasks were behind her._

Kara traced light circles on Lee's forearm, her palm drifting over soft hair, tendons, muscles, down to his hand, up each finger, probing the calluses that would always be there from combat flight. His hands were large and reassuring. She loved the way they caressed her cheek. Loved the way they felt on her body. He knew every inch of her, as she did him. They'd learned so much about each other.

"Gah?"

Lee stirred behind her at their son's call, mumbling something indistinct against her shoulder. Gently she moved his arms.

"I'll get him, it's okay."

"Sure?" Lee said, his voice muzzy, eyes barely open.

"Yeah, I was up anyway. Go back to sleep." Kara, already on her knees, bent to kiss his stubbly cheek and climbed over him, pausing to tug the blankets up to his shoulders once she'd vacated the bed. She knew he still hated being cold.

Lee's snores had started up again before she'd even left the room.

She rolled her eyes affectionately. Despite his current demeanor, he was usually pretty good at fulfilling his overnight parental obligations. Kara suspected part of that was for self-preservation purposes — he knew she'd kick his ass if he always pretended to be asleep when Will called out — but Lee had, after several false starts, shown that he wanted to take an active role in raising the kid. And he was good at it, even if he never believed her when she told him so. He definitely had the potential to be better than her, anyway. His _parents had never subscribed to the theory that inflicting pain on him and Zak to make them stronger was a good idea._

Will was lying on his stomach when she entered the room, propped up on his elbows and grinning away at a stuffed animal his grandfather had given him as a going-away present. As soon as he saw Kara, though, his attention reverted immediately to her, and he greeted his mother with a happy, "Gah!"

"You really need to figure out the difference between night and day, baby," she muttered as she bent to scoop him from the crib. "Although I guess growing up on a battlestar, I shouldn't blame you, huh?"

He smiled again, and twisted his fingers through Kara's hair as she began to walk with him around the room.

Will had actually been quite good about sleeping through the night once he'd reached his three-month birthday, at least while they'd been on Galactica _. But the move between ships seemed to have unsettled him a little after all, and his recent bout with that stomach bug hadn't helped matters. They were trying to train the five-month-old to sleep in his own bed again, not least because they now had an extra room in which to put that bed. Sometimes he cooperated, sometimes he didn't. It was basically a crapshoot. And with all the high emotions running around the place once planning for the most recent mission had begun, it was perhaps unsurprising that some of that uncertainty might filter down to the kid, making him anxious and cranky._

That was Lee's theory, anyway. All Kara knew was that she and her son were doing the insomniac thing together tonight.

Will didn't seem hungry, and his diaper was dry, so in absence of any discernible reason for his waking, she began to walk with him around their quarters, humming a tuneless melody that gradually resolved itself into a series of half-remembered notes from a song her father had played. She hummed to Will sometimes — Kara would never call it outright singing, since she figured her voice could easily peel paint from walls — and for whatever reason, she always ended up returning to that same song, the same collection of notes. Oddly, it was often quite effective in calming the infant. Some parents used lullabies for the same purpose, but Kara couldn't stand most of those songs, with their irritating lyrics that tended to get stuck in your mind until you wanted to rip your own head off. Too cutesy. So not _her._

Tonight, perhaps predictably, the humming was not working its usual magic. Will listened politely from his position on her shoulder, but he wasn't showing any signs of drifting back to sleep. In fact, each time she finished the song, he would spit out a string of his usual babbling until she started again.

"Everyone's a critic," Kara muttered after the fifth such instance of this. "C'mon, kid, we're going for a walk."

She slid a light sweater over her son's shoulders, leaving it unbuttoned down the front, and headed into her own bedroom.

"Time to get up?" Lee inquired groggily when she poked him awake.

"Nah, you've got a few hours," she replied. "I'm just gonna walk your kid around the ship, see if that settles him down. Don't bother sending out an APB, okay?"

"Right," he said, and raised up on his elbow to kiss Kara's lips and the top of Will's head. "Put him in a Viper and turn on the gyros. That'll do it."

"Yeah, I'm sure the deck crew'll love that."

"Tell 'em the CO gave permission," Lee managed around an enormous yawn. "'Cause I did. Am. Whatever."

"Ba!" Will contributed, which made his father laugh.

"See, he agrees with me," said Lee proudly. "Seriously, say I told you it's okay. If they've got issues they can bring them to me."

"Your funeral, sir." Gently she ruffled his hair, unable to restrain a smirk. He looked so much younger when he was only half-awake, and tousled from sleep. It reminded her of the little boy he must have been once, though part of her doubted Lee had ever been small and carefree. Small, yes, but he'd always had something on his shoulders, burdens that no child should have had to bear. His family name, and his father's absences, and his mother's alcoholism, and being both an older brother and a parent to Zak. He hid all of that so well, though the cracks in the façade were there beneath the surface if you knew where to look. Idly Kara wondered whether he would ever have told her about his childhood if it hadn't been for her pregnancy. She'd known bits and pieces beforehand, mostly secondhand information from Zak, but Zak didn't tell her everything. Probably, she thought, because he didn't know _everything. Part of Lee's unwilling duties must surely have included shielding his brother from their parents' more unpleasant sides._

Then again, Kara could hardly recollect a time in her own long-buried childhood when she had been carefree. Maybe when she'd been really little. Before her father left. When he used to help her tie a ribbon in her hair and then sit down at his piano, carefully tucking the hem of her blue dress underneath her knees. At first he'd kneel beside her and guide her fingers over the correct keys, helping her to coax gentle notes from the instrument, more often than not a song he had composed. As she learned, he would accompany her, playing the base melody with his left hand while Kara added in the more complicated tune. She'd loved the feeling of accomplishment when she got it just right, the tap-and-blow routine of afterwards. But what pleased her the most was his smile. A mixture of parent to child, teacher to student, and fellow musician to fellow musician, and he always got the balance just right.

Kara didn't touch the piano after he left. Momma made sure of that. She broke Kara's fingers so that bending them into the right positions was painful, and when the discomfort alone was not enough to deter her daughter, Socrata sold the instrument for a quarter of what it was worth.

Maybe, Kara thought (jerking her mind abruptly back to the present), that was why both she and Lee were so determined to give their son all they could, to make sure he grew up in as much comfort as possible given the circumstances. They knew was it was like to have parents who didn't care, or who cared for all the wrong reasons.

She left Lee sleeping again and exited their quarters with Will, pleased when the Marines stationed as ever outside didn't even blink at her leaving to wander the ship. They were well-acquainted with the fact that things were different now.

As it turned out, Kara never even made it to the hangar deck, as halfway there her son decided he was hungry after all, and began wailing for food in an area where there were no convenient alcoves or deserted hallways she could use to nurse. The closest room was, ironically, the kitchen, and Kara ducked in there, settling in a chair and quickly getting Will situated. It being the middle of the night, there was nobody else present, so she wasn't too concerned about the sloppy cover-up job she'd done with a baby blanket.

Will suckled madly at first, as was his custom, and then settled down into it once his initial hunger pangs had been sated. Kara let her head thunk back against the bulkhead as the pulling motions became more gentle, and took a relieved sip of water from her ever-present bottle. Despite the fact that she'd been doing it for several months, the whole breastfeeding thing still felt foreign and alien sometimes, and a little uncomfortable too. She would be glad when her body was fully her own again.

The kid had been feeding contentedly for about ten minutes when the door to the kitchen slid open, and Kendra Shaw stepped inside.

Well.

Instinctively, Kara wetted her lips. Looked like she and Will weren't the only ones having trouble sleeping tonight.

Her first thought was that she should find a way to sneak out without the Major noticing her presence. Surely Shaw would not appreciate her being there, and would like the fact that Will was with her even less. But all at once, Kara squared her shoulders. She had as much right to sit in the kitchen as the Major did. If Shaw wanted to complain, she could take it to Lee, dammit.

Nonetheless, Kara kept to the shadows. Part of her was very curious about why Shaw might be in the kitchen at this hour, why she wasn't tucked up tight in her rack the way an officer like her usually should be the night before a big op. Was it just that she couldn't sleep, or was there something else going on here?

Kara looked on, keenly, as Shaw took a black canister down from a shelf, paused, and then set it down on the counter. The Major grabbed a small radio hanging over a sink, beginning to troll through the wireless stations. Nothing much was happening at this time of night — mostly late-night news stations dissecting recent political decisions and Raptors requesting landing instructions as they shuttled from ship to ship — but Shaw seemed fascinated, fascinated and tense.

After she'd cycled through all the stations, Shaw unscrewed the top of the black canister and pulled out … a loaded needle. Kara's brow furrowed.

Morpha? Coca? Something even more illegal than that?

Whatever it was, Kara doubted it had been prescribed.

The Major's eyes darted briefly around the kitchen before picking up the needle, and despite the fact that her previous intentions had been clear, shock still lanced through Kara when Shaw slipped the needle's casing off, pulled her black hair back from her neck, and pressed the sharp point to her flesh, beginning to dig in.

Finally unable to keep her mouth shut any longer, Kara slammed her water bottle down on the metal table next to her, pleased when Shaw jumped.

"So, the XO is human after all," Kara smirked, watching Shaw drop the needle onto a tray. "I used to do that myself, scrum through the wireless band. Reminds you you're not alone out here." Her eyes found the needle, speculatively. "Got any more?"

Shaw's look was cagey. "More of what?"

"What you were about to stick in your neck." Kara didn't give an inch.

This time the Major glanced right at Will. "Wouldn't that be dangerous for him?"

"Oh, and it's not for you?"

"You don't miss much, do you?" Shaw challenged.

Kara shrugged. "Hey, whatever floats your boat, right? The kid and I, we came down here looking for a distraction, you came down here for …" She let the sentence trail. "Guess we're all just trying to take the edge off, right?"

Now the Major wouldn't meet her eyes. "Guess so."

"That's good." Kara allowed her gaze to become particularly dangerous. "'Cause I'd hate to think that Lee's new XO can't handle the pressure. Maybe you want to get busted back to peeling potatoes."

"I'd hate to think that Lee's favourite pilot wants to find herself scrubbing floors for indecent exposure," Shaw returned coolly, now staring at Kara's breast, plainly visible where the blanket had slipped.

Kara hitched it up, aware she was glaring now. "If you think this is indecent, you've never had a rugrat screaming in your ear because he's hungry, sir _," she snapped. "But then, what did you tell me back in your office? Something about us both having made different choices, and needing to learn to live with their consequences?"_

"Yes, I did say that." Shaw toyed with the needle, snapping and unsnapping the cap. Then she looked up at Kara again. "You know, Cain was always so puzzled by you. She used to say you could be a brilliant pilot, if only you could stop your emotions getting in the way. She knew about you and Lee. Don't be under any illusions about that fact, Captain. And she could not for the life of her figure out why someone as intelligent as you would let a relationship get in the way of your career like you did."

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us," Kara said, unlatching Will and hoisting him to her shoulder. "But you know what, Major? _Unlike you, I'm_ happy _with where I am now. I'm okay with the choices I've made. They might make life a bitch sometimes, but I don't wish I wasn't with Lee. I don't wish my kid was never born. 'Cause the way I see it, the things that Cain loved to shit on so much, relationships and kids and love and all that mushy stuff, are exactly the things that make us different from the toasters. And I'd prefer people going around saying I'm wasting my life over having them say I'm a frakking Cylon. But hey, that's just me."_

Shaw's countenance turned even colder, if that was possible, and for a moment Kara thought her superior would start yelling, would order her out of the kitchen, would get busy filing that complaint with the Commander. But she did not.

"How do you know I'm not happy?" the Major asked at length.

Kara's eyes flicked back to the tray. "This is just a hunch, but happy people don't usually go around sticking needles in their necks. Sir."

"Oh, so the only way to be happy is to do what you did and pop out a kid?" Shaw scowled. "Convenient."

"I didn't say that." It was Kara's turn to add a chill to her tone. "But if you go through life and you've got nothing to show for it but fears and regrets? I'd say you've done something wrong." When the other woman said nothing, she barreled on. "Will here started out as an accident. Another mistake I figured I'd have to get rid of. I spent a long time pissed off at myself, at Lee, at the Cylons. But if you're always like that, if anger is all you feel, it'll eat you the frak alive. You'll be hollowed out. Just like a godsdamned toaster." Will mewled against her, and she cradled him against her as she pulled her bra and tanks back down, making herself decent. "My kid, and Lee, they remind me of that every day. So if Cain thought I was crazy, and you think I'm crazy, that's fine. Between you and me, I'd rather be crazy."

Kara stood, saluted crisply, and waited as per protocol for her superior to return the gesture before dropping her arm to the side. She then spun on her heel and exited, pausing only once to look back as the hatch began to swish closed.

It was probably her imagination, but Kara thought she saw, just for a moment, traces of tears on Shaw's cheeks.

***

Everything afterward was a blur.

When Kara thought of the mission — which she didn't like to do — the details always came to her in bits and snatches. She recalled climbing into the evac Raptor. She remembered the bright flash of nuclear detonation, and ducking her helmeted head to hide the tear tracks on her face from her companions. It was easy to recollect the dull _thunk_ of the Raptor docking on _Pegasus_ , being moved onto the hangar deck, the hatch hissing open.

Lee was waiting there.

It took several moments of him simply staring at her before he moved. A blizzard of emotions crossed his features, everything from amazement to shock to desperation to relief and beyond. And when he reached her, he did not embrace her as she'd expected, but rather conferred with the rest of the team and collected their verbal reports before grasping Kara's arm firmly and leading her off the hangar deck, up through the ship, to their quarters. The Marines outside stood unseeing, as ever, while the hatch opened to admit Captain and Commander and then closed securely behind them.

Only then did Lee hug her.

Only then did she understand why he hadn't wanted to do so in public.

His grasp was so crushing, so terrified, that she could barely breathe. He was going to crack one of her ribs if he kept squeezing this hard, but neither of them cared. Lee was just holding her against his body, trapping her there, inhaling her, his head buried in her neck. She was just as glad to be like this, just as glad to hold him, because as much as he'd almost lost her, the opposite was also true. _She_ had almost lost _him_ , again.

But this wasn't about her, not right now.

It was about him, about his worst fears nearly coming true.

Kara made soothing noises, smoothed her hand up and down his back, whispered over and over that she was there, that she wasn't going anywhere, that things were okay now. The platitudes were stupid and lame and not at all like her, but she sensed they were what he needed to hear.

When she fell silent for a moment, he started to shake.

His grip was loosening, so Kara tightened hers, wrapped him up entirely. Lee's breathing gasped and juddered in her ear, and she realized the side of her neck was moist, getting wetter. Not sweat; that had all been wicked away by her flight suit. Tears. He was crying silently, but still crying, and not the polite little sniffles he'd made in their tent on Kobol. These consumed his entire body. She couldn't remember when, or indeed _if_ , she'd seen him lose it like this. Not after Zak's death. Whatever grieving he'd done then — and Kara knew there'd been plenty — he had done in private, away from her. This was possibly the first time she had ever seen him lose control so completely.

She did not reprove him.

Kara merely held on, grounded them both, and waited for the storm to break.


	46. Chapter 46

For three days following the mission on the experimental basestar, Lee seriously considered resigning his commission.

Kara urged him not to make that decision under such conditions, and he would have been lying if he'd said it wasn't a little humourous to have _her_ advising _him_ not to choose one way or the other before he thought things completely through. She also offered to transfer back to _Galactica_ so he wouldn't ever be put in the same position again. While Lee appreciated the gesture, he couldn't in good conscience agree that was what she should do … at least partly because he couldn't stand the idea of being separated from her.

Especially not after what had just happened.

He spent most of those three days either curled up in bed or on his hands and knees in the head, unable to keep any food down. The official story given out was that he'd contracted a minor virus, and it was one that, in his weaker moments, even Lee sometimes believed. Most of the time, though, he knew the truth: the worry and stress of the last several days, and most particularly the mission, had finally caught up with him. He even wondered at times whether he might be cracking up. Going off the deep end. Maybe they'd have to cart him off to the brig in a straitjacket by the end of this.

When he mentioned that theory to Kara, she burst out laughing and didn't stop for a long time. Then she told him that if he went crazy, no one would notice because he'd already _been_ crazy for years. Lee couldn't say why, but this made him feel a lot better.

In the end, he did not resign, and he didn't even tell anyone besides Kara that he'd been thinking of doing so. He knew it would get back to his father, not to mention unsettle the crew, and the last thing _Pegasus_ needed right now was an unsettled crew. Ironically, the Admiral was a large part of the reason Lee couldn't resign. He didn't want to give his father the satisfaction. There'd been a hint of something in Bill Adama's eyes when he had handed his son the Commander's pips, something that suggested the elder believed it was only a matter of time before Lee screwed up and backed out. Perhaps there was trust present as well, but all Lee could see was the challenge. All he could see was how the Admiral would gloat if the commitment wasn't fulfilled.

So many of their struggles over the years had been non-verbal, and this one was no different. Lee actually had no idea whether his father felt the emotions he had ascribed to him. But history suggested that he did, and history was all Lee needed. There was _always_ a silent challenge in Dad's eyes. When Lee had been small it was the challenge to be the best, to live up to the Adama family name. When his parents divorced, it was the challenge to be the man of the house. Then there was the Academy, and flight school, and War College, and Zak … and Zak. Lee felt sometimes like he'd spent his whole life being compared against an invisible measuring stick. That certainly hadn't changed now. If anything, the feeling had intensified.

Thankfully, he was somewhat insulated from his father on the _Pegasus_ , at least more than he would have been if he'd still served on _Galactica_. He could choose his interactions, and Kara acted as a buffer between Commander and Admiral when she sensed Lee needed that — which was often in the first few weeks after the mission. She did so grudgingly, and with some pointed hints that both the Adamas should just get over themselves already, but there was no hesitation in her actions. That was how Lee knew she still loved him.

On one level, he couldn't imagine how that was possible. He'd ordered her to her _death_ , after all, and the fact that Kendra Shaw had intervened at the last minute did little to assuage his guilt. Kara had told him not to feel guilty, but that was like asking a Cylon Raider to whiz merrily by and not shoot at the fleet. He'd almost left Will without a mother. Himself without a … well, whatever Kara was to him. Lee _still_ hadn't quite figured that out.

But reminders of what he'd nearly done were everywhere. They were in Kendra's absence. They were in the fact that he suddenly found himself, again, without an XO, and no idea how to go about choosing another one. He was reminded each time Kara kissed him, each time he saw her with their son, each night when they slipped into bed together and she pulled him into her arms. Lee felt constantly close to a strange type of precipice when they made love, as though at any moment he might just explode into pure emotion. It was frightening, not being in control of oneself.

Kara encouraged him, repeatedly, to let it go. "Lee, if I'd kept thinking about what happened after you got shot, it would've eaten me the frak alive," she pointed out one night. "Guilt will hollow you out until you can't even enjoy what you've got right in front of you. Think of it as a second chance and do not look back."

He tried to take her advice as much as he could, but the meaning of the words did not fully sink in until a week later.

Lee had come back to their quarters early, and was relaxing with Will on one of the couches while half-heartedly attempting some paperwork. _Very_ half-heartedly, because his mind kept wandering, and it wandered right to the fact that if Kara really had died on that basestar, this would be his reality now. He'd get Will from childcare every night, and would somehow have to juggle his command responsibilities _and_ his son. It would have been a difficult life; probably an impossible one under the circumstances.

Lee shook his head, annoyed. _Get a grip, Adama_ , he instructed himself firmly. _It didn't happen, so quit thinking about it._

Easier said than done, of course.

He scrawled his initials on a provided line without even looking at what he was signing, and shoved the paper aside to reach for another one, staring at its contents for several moments before at last registering that it was the final posthumous commendation award form for Kendra Shaw. More memories assaulted him.

Lee might have stayed like that for a long while, simply staring into space, had Will not grabbed hold of his pen and attempted to tug it out of his father's hand.

"Buh!" the six-month-old exclaimed, studiously ignoring the stuffed bear next to him in favour of the far more desirable pen.

"Yeah, I know," Lee sighed, hefting his son to a standing position on the couch — one of Will's favourite pastimes these days was to bounce on his feet, for as long as his mother or father consented to hold him up. The infant immediately settled down to this game, grinning eagerly. "If your mom were here she'd say the same thing. _Quit wallowing, Lee._ Right?"

"Gah," Will agreed, and reached out a chubby hand to bat his father's nose.

The latter couldn't help but smile. Will's grin was infectious (that made sense, given that the smile was Kara's too) and the sight of it always cheered Lee up, no matter the circumstances. He wondered fleetingly what Will would have thought had he been old enough to know what his father had done, to know that Lee had ordered the woman they both adored to her death. Would Will have hated him for it? Would it have caused a rift to grow between them, a rift that had the potential to become as deep-seated as that between Lee and his own father? What if Kara _had_ actually died? What would have happened when Will became old enough to question why he didn't have a mother? Would the rift have started then? Or would Will have made an effort to understand, the way Lee hadn't after Zak had died?

 _Either way, I'll bet Zak rolled over in his grave when he heard about the events aboard the experimental basestar_ , Lee thought.

Ugh, that _place_ again. Once more Lee shook his head, attempting to clear the unpleasant memories. Will giggled, apparently interpreting this as some new game, and bounced more heartily.

Lee was just turning his attention back to the paperwork, his son now cuddled on his lap, when the door swished open and Kara strode in, looking uncharacteristically downcast.

"Hey," Lee said, and both he and Will grinned at her, but she didn't smile back. "Crappy day?"

"I delivered the finalized Caprica rescue plans to the Admiral so he can look them over," Kara told him, making no outward signs that she'd heard his greeting. "He said he'd get back to me no later than tomorrow."

"Great," replied Lee, still slightly wrongfooted by her countenance. He leaned back, allowing Kara to scoop Will into her lap as she sat next to him. "Do you think he'll go for it?"

"Probably, yeah." She stared into the distance, much as Lee had been doing moments earlier. "The only thing he might have an issue with is Sharon's part in it, but I think I can convince him we need her."

"Okay. 'Cause I can still go to bat for you if you want."

"I've got it. But thanks."

Cautiously Lee moved closer, sliding an arm around her shoulder. "Something else is going on, though. Are you worried about Sam?"

"Sam?" Kara blinked, as though she'd never heard the word before. "Well, yeah, obviously. But, um …"

That startled him. Kara was _never_ at a loss for words.

"What?" A frisson of fear crawled up his spine. Was she finally going to lambaste him for ordering her to die?

"Hera passed away today." She hugged Will closer as she said it. "I ran into Helo on _Galactica_ and he told me."

"Hera …" Lee floundered for a moment, just a moment, before remembering. Karl's daughter had been born a couple days previously, and while she was small, she had by all accounts been doing as well as could be expected. "Shit. How's he dealing?"

"How do you _think_ , Lee?" Kara muttered, and he was relieved to see that a bit of Starbuck had returned. "He's frakking devastated. Could barely look me in the eye." She shook her head.

Lee bit the inside of his cheek, hard, resisting the impulse to make an acidic comment about Helo's choice in … partners. He knew it wouldn't be appreciated at this moment. "Do they have any idea what went wrong? The report I got said her birthweight was a bit low and her lungs weren't developed, but Cottle seemed to think he could pull her through."

Kara shrugged. "I don't know. Helo said … it was just one of those things, I guess."

Perhaps, but it would also remove the implied threat of any Cylons in the fleet gaining access to the baby and using her for their own ends. Lee had discussed that very fact with the Admiral the day of Hera's birth. In that sense, her death, though unpleasant, was an advantage.

Then he looked at Will, babbling in Kara's arms, and wondered how _he_ would feel were he in Karl's position. What if there had been complications soon after Will was born? What if the baby had come too early? What if his son had died? As frightened as Lee had been when Kara first informed him she was pregnant, and as much as he had unconsciously tried to find a way out of the situation, he was now committed to it, and happily so. He knew he must have been content before, that there had been amazing moments in his life when Will had not existed, but he could not imagine that life now without this boy in it. He could no more recollect what his existence would be minus his son than he could envision cutting off one of his legs.

Lee shivered, and hugged Kara closer.

She was noticeably subdued for the remainder of the evening, and seldom let Will out of her sight. Lee felt he understood many of her thoughts — he was having similar ones — and he did not raise any objections when she brought their son into bed with them that night. It would confuse the infant if they kept continually waffling on the issue of where he was to sleep, but this was a special circumstance.

Lee was not, however, prepared for one particular aspect of Kara's thoughts.

She'd been silent for such a long time after they lay down that he was certain she'd gone to sleep already. So it startled him when Kara said, with the air of continuing a discussion they had been having for quite awhile, "Have you ever thought about having another kid?"

Lee's eyes flicked automatically to Will, who was clutching his stuffed bear between them. "Um … I guess, but I kind of figured we'd wait until he was speaking in complete sentences first, Kara."

"I don't mean _now_ , idiot. Like maybe in a few years, when all this other shit's settled down."

"Maybe," Lee allowed. He wasn't too sure where she was going with this, what she hoped to achieve.

Kara was smirking. "You can't tell me you don't want a girl. I know you do, 'cause you sure talked about it often enough when I was carting him around."

"I just thought Will was going to be a girl. I don't know why, but I did."

"You want a daughter to spoil rotten, that's all." She snickered. "Admit it, Lee, she'd be a total daddy's girl."

"Not with you around." He knew he was blushing, though, and so did she. And Lee _could_ admit, if only to himself, that he had never quite been able to let go of the image he'd cultivated during Kara's pregnancy: a miniature version of her, a child with a mischievous smile and even more mischievous personality, a little girl he could protect from the world and who could run to him and hide in his arms after she'd had a nightmare. A daughter who would make him wear stupid pink clothes when she wanted to play tea party, or whatever it was that little girls liked to play. A little sister for Will, someone for his son to feel protective of, but not responsible for the way Lee himself had felt with Zak. A girl who would grow into a young woman and bring home boyfriends for Lee to interrogate and possibly chase off.

"Yep, I've got you there," Kara decided, and poked him.

"How so?"

"You should see your face right now, Lee."

He rolled his eyes, but understood that imagining that little fantasy had stretched a wide goofy smile across his features. It was probably quite pathetic, really.

"Yeah, well, there's no guarantees," he reminded her. "Given my family history and our luck, we'd end up with another boy."

Kara winked. "Oh, yeah, and whose fault would that be? I don't control the fact that your genetic material likes it rough and tough, sir."

Lee figured that a slight change of subject was in order. "Are you asking me this now because of what happened to Helo?"

" _And_ Sharon," she reminded him firmly. "I know you don't see her as anything but a machine, but she loves him. And she loved that kid. She must feel horrible right now.'

Lee sighed. He did sympathize with Helo, but still couldn't quite get past the fact that Sharon — yes, a different Sharon, but Sharon nonetheless — had attempted to assassinate his father. Given the billions of people the Cylons had already killed, it was difficult to believe a skinjob might feel compassion for one baby, even if that baby happened to be her own.

He knew Kara wouldn't agree, though, so he merely replied, "Right, but you thinking of having another kid, _is_ it because of Helo and … and Sharon? I recall you saying at one point that I'd better get used to Will being my only child."

Now it was Kara's turn to roll her eyes. "I was in the worst pain of my life, Lee. I was this close to ripping your dick off with my bare hands, and I think we can both agree I didn't end up doing that."

Lee shuddered. He was indeed quite glad that she had not.

"So tell me why exactly I would want to open myself up to that potential threat again?" he teased.

"Because you do want a girl," Kara shot back.

"Look, this shouldn't be just about what I want," Lee countered with a sigh. "You're the one who'll have to do it all over again. You'll have to deal with being pregnant, all the … stuff that goes along with that, you'll be grounded, your fitness certification will lapse, and none of that is even counting the fact that you'll be giving birth to the kid. And I think we're both aware of how difficult _that_ part is."

"You don't think I know that?" She glared. "I don't want to do all this now, okay? I already said so. This is like … future stuff, maybe even for after we find Earth. Whenever the hell _that_ is. We need to be settled, because I'm not having another kid on a godsdamned battlestar. I won't make another person breathe recycled air and never know what the sun looks like."

"Yeah," murmured Lee. Half-remembered dream images were coming back to him, bits and snatches of unconscious, morpha-fueled experiences. _Him and Kara and Will, on a planet … a snake … a picnic … a rock slicing his flesh …_ was that Earth? Had that been, against his gut instincts, Earth?

Or somewhere else?

Somewhere where, perhaps, they had stopped for a brief time to load up on resources, a planet designed to help them on the next leg of their journey?

No. That wasn't possible. It had just been a dumb dream, after all. There was absolutely no indication that any such planet besides Earth existed, nor any indication that Earth itself would be in reach anytime soon.

The image was a nice one, but also patently unrealistic.

"But you do want a girl," said Kara, and her eyes were soft, when he looked at her.

It was useless to deny that fact. "I do," he replied, reaching to cover her hand with his, "but not right now. Neither of us is ready, and we both need to be. Okay?"

Lee knew she would never have admitted it, so he wouldn't have asked her, but he knew instinctively, as he bent to kiss her … that her eyes held relief.


	47. Chapter 47

Kara Thrace did not get nervous.

 _Starbuck_ didn't get nervous.

She was normally of the opinion that nervousness shared its lineage with fear, and both were unnecessary emotions. _Fear gets you killed, anger keeps you alive_ , as Momma used to say. Momma said that a lot, along with many other useless things. But that particular saying was not useless. In fact, it was one of the most valuable lessons — probably the _only_ valuable lesson — that her mother had ever taught her.

It sure worked in the military, anyway.

It worked when you were fighting a war against an enemy who already had death beat.

But it did not work to counter the most tenacious of nerves. The nerves that were in fact just one step below fear. The nerves that whispered life must surely be about to fall apart, because no one's life was allowed to be this good for this long. Lee had accepted her and they had a son together and they were living together and it had never been better. So something, somewhere, _somehow_ , had to go wrong.

Sure, Kara had gotten approval for the rescue mission to Caprica. Yes, they would leave tomorrow. That much was certain.

What was uncertain was what they would find there.

Would the resistance still exist? Would they be operating out of the same base? Would it be simple to find them? Would the toasters be on their tails, ready to flush them out into the open?

Was Sam alive?

That was one of the central questions rattling in her mind.

So much rode on him being okay.

Kara cared about the others, about Barolay and Hilliard and all the rest of them. They deserved to be rescued, just as much as Samuel T. Anders.

But it was Sam with whom she had formed a personal connection.

She had played pyramid with Sam.

She had sat next to him for meals.

She'd kissed him.

She'd slept with him.

Therein lay the second part of her nervousness. Assuming he was alive (and she knew that was indeed a very big thing to assume), there was the matter of what would happen when Kara brought the resistance back to _Galactica_. It was all well and good for Lee to promise to help her with the mission and do everything in his power to ensure she got the Admiral's approval, but how long would that relaxed attitude last once he came face to face with Sam? Lee had found out, in a rather bizarre way, that she'd slept with Sam on Caprica. Kara hadn't exactly confirmed or denied that, so would he still believe it? Or would he have dismissed it as idle gossip, the kind that got tossed around a battlestar all the time?

There was only one way to find out, of course, and that was to tell Lee the truth. The pure, unvarnished truth, and let the chips fall where they may.

But was she brave enough to do that?

The truth might come out anyway, once Sam was on _Galactica_. Kara had tried not to leave him with any expectations, especially since she knew she was pregnant with Lee's child, but perhaps the fact that she'd given Sam her dogtag would create an expectation anyway. And the bottom line was … she didn't know. She honestly could not predict how she might feel when she saw him again. She'd felt _something_ when they were together; that much was undeniable. But whether that something was lust or love or attraction or chemistry or even guilt was utterly impossible to divine right now.

And how would Sam react, knowing Kara had been with Lee before she went back to Caprica? What were _his_ expectations? Was he in love with her? Was it simple lust for him too? What would he say when he met Lee — for surely that was inevitable?

There was Will, too.

She felt very weird about leaving her son, even though they were apart each day when Kara went on shift. It wasn't that she didn't trust Lee to take good care of him — no, not at all. But she would likely be gone for at least a few days, if not longer, and that was certainly the most amount of time that she and Will had spent separated from each other. She'd made all the necessary preparations, which chiefly involved pumping enough milk to keep the infant going for the duration of her absence, and a little more besides that in case of emergency. Will still didn't like bottles very much, but he'd make do.

What would he think of her being away, though?

These thoughts preoccupied Kara for most of her last day on _Pegasus_ , such that she was able to pay only the bare minimum of attention to her duties, or to anything else once she returned to quarters. She knew Lee must notice, but he didn't comment on it, not until Will had been put to bed and Lee suggested they take a shower together.

Kara knew what he was probably after — a goodbye frak — so she agreed immediately, figuring that might at least take her mind off the stupid nervousness gnawing the pit of her stomach.

And for a while, it did. For a while, she was able to forget, able to ignore, able to simply enjoy being with Lee and not worry about other inconvenient thoughts intruding.

They washed each other, pausing for frequent kisses and gropes, and she rubbed his back, her attention caught by the task of diffusing knots of tension. He'd developed so many more since assuming the _Pegasus_ command, and sometimes Kara was amazed he didn't just seize up completely where he stood. Judging by the noises he was making as she prodded, poked, pressed, worked, her massage felt good.

 _Very_ good, she reflected, when he turned around and she saw he was ready for her, ready to slide inside and press her against the wall so she could wrap her legs around him and let him stand for both of them as he pounded into her so hard that she'd forget _everything_ , including Sam, including her own name —

But Lee didn't, even though he was clearly in need of attention. Instead he lowered his head to her chest and dropped kisses between her breasts, simultaneously trailing one hand over her stomach and down between her legs, up her thighs to cup her and then press his thumb to her clit, firmly, just the right amount of stimulation to get her gasping and arching.

" _Lee_ …" Kara moaned on the exhale, loudly, and would probably have continued to make noise had he not sealed his lips over hers, his eyes jerking toward the shower door and the open hatch beyond.

The unspoken message was clear: _Hey, don't disturb the kid._

She would have liked to moan again just to mess with him, but Kara stood to lose as much as he did if Will woke up, so she kept silent.

Lee smiled against her mouth after several moments, kissed her one final time and headed downwards once more.

It was an effort to keep her own counsel after that — the man could do the most _amazing_ things with his hands — but Kara did, somehow, some way. His thumb remained pressed to her clit and she had to bite down hard on her lip to avoid crying out as he pushed first one and then another finger inside her, hot digits meeting slick darkness. Lee moved his mouth to her breasts again, swirling his tongue around her nipple, and she bucked against his hand.

Then there were teeth — _teeth_ — just a soft nip across pebbled flesh but more than enough to make heat begin to spiral in her abdomen, and she slid a few inches down the wall and a few inches down his finger and _oh_ … he'd hit something inside her, somewhere, pleasure coiling tightly within her and Kara could not resist …

" _Yeah_ … Lee, do that — that again —"

Lee did, her bliss nearly mirrored on his face. This was affecting him as much as it was her; she knew he had to be nursing one hell of a hard-on right now. A quick glance down confirmed her suspicions, and she stilled for a moment from where she'd been all but rutting against his hand.

"Hey — you're —"

"Go on without me," he told her. Kara was halfway to deciding he must be either the most selfless guy in the universe or the stupidest when Lee twisted his fingers inside her and she forgot everything including her own name, everything but the intensity of his blue eyes and the way he was looking at her …

Twist —

Blink —

Press —

 _Oh._

Yes.

She soared, the shower water hot on her back, comingling with sweat, and it made her climax so vivid and _sensory_ that she felt she could fling herself out an airlock and fly without a Viper, without a suit, just Kara and the stars.

Lee released her breast and kissed down her sternum as the wave broke, as she slumped back against the wall. That had done it … now she could forget … and just as the thought entered Kara's mind, she felt teeth scraping her stomach, orbiting her navel —

A sense memory slammed into her, as surely as her bird crashing against the flight deck, and it was a combat landing, a trigger pulled all the way. _Blue eyes … but different eyes … softer, without competition … worshiping only her in the office he used for his bedroom … two lovers amidst a resistance … seeking to forget …_

When Kara opened her eyes another face was in front of her, inches away, watching her, eyes alight.

 _Sam, bliss, as she rode him —_

"Lee, wait," she blurted out.

"What?" Somewhere in all of this he'd withdrawn his hand, and it came up now to cradle her cheek.

"I …" Kara was at a loss for words, which she didn't like. That _never_ happened to her. "There's something you should know, Lee. Before I do the mission tomorrow."

"Can it wait?" Lee pressed against her, intent clear.

She shook her head, unable to believe she was really going to do this _now_ , while they were in the shower together with a finite amount of time. Was she willing to ruin all that, throw a wrench into their plans for a pleasant last evening?

Apparently, she was.

Because that was what Kara Thrace did. She screwed up.

"I slept with Sam, on Caprica," and the words were tumbling out but she couldn't seem to stop them. "He needed … we both needed the distraction and it was easy and simple and he was there and …" This was starting to sound disturbingly like her justification for having bedded Baltar, but Kara forged ahead. "It was twice, actually, but I was messed up, okay? You and I had just punched each other's frakking lights out and I figured we were over, that there was no way in hell we could go back to how things were before, so … well, you know me …" Her voice trailed.

There was a long pause.

"Yeah," Lee said finally. His gaze was inscrutable. "Kara, why are you telling me this now?"

 _It's the end of the world, Lee. I thought I should confess my sins._

The words rushed up to her mouth, but instead she replied, "I don't know, because I'm flying off to Caprica tomorrow on a two-alpha mission and there's a good chance I won't come back?"

Momentary pain flicked across his face, the kind that told her he was nowhere near being comfortable with what had happened on the experimental basestar. "Don't say that."

"Why not?" Kara demanded, feeling anger rise up inside her. Anger, her last defense against potential rejection. Always had been, always would be. "It's the truth!"

"Well maybe I'm not okay with the truth!" That muscle was going in Lee's jaw, signaling that he was also well on his way to getting pissed. "Maybe I feel a bit weird about this mission, especially after what you've just told me!"

"So there it is, huh?" She backed to the corner of the shower stall, needing distance. "You know, I wondered how frakking long it would take you. I wondered how long you'd wait to start putting pieces together. You're dense, Lee, but you're not _that_ dense, and neither am I. We both know exactly what this is about."

"And what is _this_ about? Care to enlighten me?" His voice was climbing octaves now.

"You're jealous," Kara spat. "Because that's always your first reaction. Don't try to pretend like it isn't."

"I'm not!" snapped Lee, but it took him just a second too long to come up with that, so she knew it was a lie.

Kara couldn't help wondering, in the back of her mind, what exactly she was doing. Baltar had been all about pushing Lee away, ensuring another Adama wouldn't die because of her. It was stupid, but it made a kind of twisted, frakked-up sense. This was something different, though. This was … for her, making the first move away in case Lee decided her interlude with Sam was a deal-breaker. Kara didn't get rejected; she was the one who did the rejecting. And even though she still wasn't sure quite what Lee thought, perhaps this was a sort of insurance. She could walk away with her head held high, knowing she'd been the one to make the first break.

And if Sam was still alive … well …

No. She wouldn't think that far ahead. Not yet.

"Oh, yeah, and the thing with Baltar, that was just a CAG expressing concern for one of his pilots, right?" Fed up, Kara yanked open the shower door, resisting the urge to shiver at the cool air gushing in. "You punching me was just your way of showing how much you cared, huh? Forget it, Lee, I'm not buying that anymore."

"Kara, that was stupid, and it was a long time ago!" He followed her out into the main head. "I thought we'd changed since then! I thought we'd moved on!"

"Maybe we haven't." She snatched a towel from the rack and wrapped it around herself. "Not according to you, anyway."

Kara was about to storm out of the head when he grabbed her arm and spun her unwillingly. "Let go!" she ordered, but his grip was firm.

"I'm not letting you walk away this time." Lee was breathing heavily, angrily. "Not this time. I am not just some casual lay you can jerk around with whenever you feel like it, and you know that. I was honest with you, Kara. I leveled with you as much as I could, told you the truth about all kinds of things that I have _never_ told anybody else. And maybe it was stupid of me but I expected at least the same kind of honesty in return. I let you put this mission together and I went to the mat for you with the Admiral and the president. I did it to _help_ you. Because friends help friends. And now what I'm hearing is that this guy might have meant something to you — _might_ have, but you're not sure, and you won't be sure until you pluck him off Caprica and bring him back here! So yeah, maybe I _am_ a little jealous. But I think I have a right to be, godsdammit."

Instead of jerking away — her natural instinct — she leaned closer, closer, until she was right in his face. "Same old Lee. You haven't changed a bit."

"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You've been making the same mistakes since Baltar," she told him. "No, actually, since before then. Since _Zak_."

She'd said the magic word. Instinctively his grip slackened, just for a moment, and Kara yanked her arm free to begin stalking out of the head.

Lee was right behind her. She should have known he would be, that he wouldn't let a remark like that go. "My brother has _nothing_ to do with this," he hissed, his tone low and dangerous. "Don't you _dare_ bring Zak into this conversation."

"Too late." Kara finished drying herself and tugged a bra over her head. "Look, Lee, I'm sorry if me going to rescue Sam has dredged up all this extra baggage for you, but I can do frak-all about that so you may as well start accepting it. I _did_ try to be honest with you, I _did_ try to tell you, but if this is what I'm going to get —"

"That's not honesty!" Lee interrupted hotly. "That's springing something on me at the last godsdamned minute and expecting me to be okay with it! That's lying by omission!"

"Ooh, big words," she mocked.

"I thought we were a family, Kara. I thought we were trying to be a family."

And that cut her, more deeply than he could probably have imagined. She turned away, pulled on sweatpants and a hoodie. "I have to do this. You know I have to."

Lee's blue eyes held a challenge when Kara dared to look at him. "For who, you or him?"

"Both," Kara said softly, and turned away again.

"Yeah, well, if my thing is jealousy, yours is _definitely_ guilt," mumbled Lee. "Maybe you're right, maybe this _is_ all about Zak."

"Oh, and which one would you like to be today, the pot or the kettle?" Kara barked. "I'll be the pot. Or maybe the kettle. It doesn't matter anyway, they're both _black_."

"You don't even have the _slightest_ comprehension of what I—"

A piercing wail interrupted them, and Kara realized suddenly just how loudly they'd been shouting. No wonder Will had woken up. The Marines outside were probably getting an earful.

"Frak it, we should've sold tickets," she muttered, and headed into her son's room. Sure enough, he was lying on his stomach again, propped up by his elbows, tears streaming down his cheeks. Kara scooped him up and whipped around, to find Lee right behind her. At least he had pants on now.

"Whose fault is that?" he fired back.

"Not mine," Kara said crisply, her arms wound protectively around Will, because she didn't trust Lee not to turn the infant into a verbal weapon too. "I was just being honest, _sir_."

She needed to get out, needed a break, needed to stop this before it went any further than it had already — and it had gone pretty damned far. So much for the last evening before the mission. But then, maybe this would've happened anyway, maybe they'd been spoiling for a fight about Sam ever since she told Lee she'd promised to return with a rescue party. In that sense, it was good that they had gotten it over with sooner rather than later. Of course, this was assuming they managed to recover.

"Where the hell are you going?" Lee demanded as she headed toward the hatch.

"Out." Kara did not elaborate.

"So you're just going to take him, is that it?" He was yelling again. "You're going to take _my son_ and go be a family with Pyramid Boy?"

She paused just long enough to toss, "Frak you!" over her shoulder when the hatch swished open.

As Kara stepped into the corridor, Will's cries started up again, and she was grateful, grateful while she soothed him, because in the midst of his tears … hers might go unnoticed.

***

It took hours for him to find her, in the ship's kitchens. That was where she usually went when she was pissed off. Sort of a memorial to Kendra, Kara thought, though she would never have said so.

It took minutes for her to acknowledge him, for her to turn, their now-sleeping son still cradled in her arms.

It took seconds after that for him to take her arm, to embrace her, for the inevitable apologies to tumble from their lips, at the same time.

None of the crew paid attention when Lee led her out of the kitchen. The other officers didn't have time, and it was such a normal occurrence anyway.

Back in their quarters, they held each other.

And when reveille sounded over the loudspeakers, when the alarm clock buzzed, their soft moans and grunts and whispers as he thrust into her from behind justified everything.

Everything.


	48. Chapter 48

The stars were still there.

Of course they hadn't left. Kara wasn't really sure where she thought they'd gone. Maybe it was just because she seldom got a chance to look at them like this, spread out before her, at a time when the mission was not just a simple CAP but an actual _mission_.

A rescue mission.

The one she'd wanted for so long.

It wasn't without its disadvantages, of course. She had needed to fight hard for it, over long months, and she'd paid the cost, both professionally as her colleagues were baffled by her single-mindedness, and personally, in terms of damage to her relationship with Lee. That was still being mended, and although they were on better terms than they had been the previous night, she suspected that Lee was not as much in favour of the mission now he knew the truth.

Unfortunately, there was little to be done about that. The majority of the blame fell on her side, Kara knew, for not leveling with him until the last minute, but at the same time she thought he could have been a _bit_ less reactionary. Regardless of her previous actions on Caprica, she'd shown herself committed to him — to _them_ — as much as she could. The idea of running had been extremely tempting at times but Kara always argued with herself that not only was there nowhere to run to, she couldn't have her son be a pawn in some frakked-up game of control between his parents. She wouldn't put it past either Lee or herself to do that in an extreme situation. But the memory of her own parents (and Lee's, if it came to that) and long nights spent with bedcovers making a tent around her while she listened to the adults in her life yelling obscenities at each other made her determined not to force that on Will. Neither Kara nor Lee could do the whole parenting thing on their own. Lee had come right out and admitted that to her, and Kara knew that if she had to go it alone, she'd be driven crazy inside of a month. No: if they were going to do this at all, and they _were_ , it must be together.

As Kara glanced at the stars, waiting for the calculation of the final jump coordinates to Caprica to patch through, she couldn't help reflecting how weird it was that every time she jumped to that planet lately, it seemed like she and Lee'd just had a fight. Last time it had been Baltar. This time, it was Sam.

Sam.

 _Dammit, Anders, be there. Be there._

She shoved those thoughts away and turned toward the back of the Raptor, where Helo and Sharon were ensconced. There'd been some debate about bringing Sharon along — chiefly from the _Pegasus_ pilots who were accompanying them on this rescue mission — but her presence was absolutely essential, given that the link-up she could form with the Cylon navigation components installed in the Raptor was the only way the SAR team could make it to Caprica in less than ten jumps. Already the process had not been without its problems: on the very first jump away from _Galactica_ they had lost Skulls and Racetrack and were now without at least one part of their team. Kara still didn't know what had happened there. She hoped fervently that they had simply been given the wrong coordinates … and that the coordinates they did have weren't going to put them right in the middle of a Cylon fleet or worse.

But the mission rules, the rules she had written herself, said the rest of the team should keep going with their jumps unless three or more Raptors had been lost. So, they'd kept going.

Now, the moment of truth.

She flicked her comlink to the open position. "SAR team, Starbuck. We are set here, stand by for final jump to Caprica. Remember, we are going very low to the surface. Be prepared for wind shear, rain, storms … anything."

" _Roger that, Starbuck_ ," Screwball answered. He was one of the pilots who had objected most vehemently to Sharon's role, but he had also not questioned Kara once she made her orders clear. Screwball was a good guy.

"Ready," Sharon spoke up.

"Here we go," Kara said into the comm. "Jump."

A last, fleeting glimpse of the stars — a silent prayer — the contraction of faster-than-light travel —

— and then expansion, the universe bursting abruptly back into life, but instead of the dim outline of the planet she'd experienced on her last trip to Caprica, they were right in the thick of it, just below cloud cover, being buffeted crazily by air currents.

"SAR team, Starbuck, form up on me!" she ordered.

" _Roger that, skipper._ " Screwball's voice over the line was faint, but detectable.

"Any Cylons, Helo?" Kara asked next.

"Nothing on DRADIS," her friend reported. "Wait a minute. Wait a minute, we're missing a Raptor. I'm only reading seventeen out there. We're missing Raptor 612, Tough Guy and Carousel."

"What, they jumped to the wrong coordinates?" Kara's mind skipped instantly to Skulls and Racetrack.

"No, no, I'm — I'm picking up their transponder, so they made it. Bearing 827, carom 443, about half a click from here. That would put them …" Helo paused. "Oh my gods."

"Where, Helo? Talk to me."

"They jumped inside the mountain." He gestured out the window to a large promontory on the left.

Kara sucked in a breath, anger filling her momentarily. That made it at least two Raptors lost, one sacrificed for sure, the other questionable. How many more people were they going to lose in the name of this rescue mission? " _Damn_ ," she spat fervently. "SAR team, Starbuck, we've lost Raptor 612. We are proceeding without them. Follow me."

She put the lost Raptors out of her mind, shoved them aside as she was usually so expert at doing, and focused all her concentration on the situation at hand.

Despite the wind gusts still buffeting their ship, the landing went relatively smoothly, and almost before Kara knew it she and the SAR teams were safely under the cover of the trees, heading toward the Resistance's last known base camp. Of course, it was entirely possible that they would no longer be there, having been flushed out by Cylons or lack of resources or any number of other catastrophes, but Delphi Union High School was as good a place as any to start. It wasn't like they could waste time searching the entire planet, after all, and military protocol dictated that any search and rescue mission proceed from the last known point of contact.

Kara pushed back more memories as they walked, memories of sneaking through these trees with Sam and Helo on their way to what they thought would be a simple sabotage mission. It had started like that, but it finished with Kara shot, the Cylons attacking, and her being dragged off to one of those Farms. And she had no difficulty recalling where subsequent events had led.

"Let's figure out where we are, Karl," Kara hissed after several more minutes of walking. They had come to a fallen tree, its trunk blocking their path.

Helo consulted the trajectory outline. "Resistance base camp is still another click ahead."

Sharon, who had been mostly silent during the landing and their walk, now straightened up and peered into the distance. "Movement, eleven o'clock."

The group whipped around and followed her gaze. Sure enough, they could see figures darting through the trees, shadowy and elusive but definitely there. Kara motioned to the tree trunk and the team ducked behind it, flattening themselves against the rough bark and moss. She held her breath and listened, to birds chirping, to wind whistling through leaves … to what might have been distant footsteps …

"Friendlies?" she wondered aloud.

Helo pursed his lips, and then, before anyone could stop him, he hollered over his shoulder at the unknown figures, "You got a Samuel T. Anders there?"

Kara's heart nearly stopped. Tactically, this was exactly the wrong thing to do. "Helo, what in the hell do you think you're —"

"Is there a Kara Thrace there?" came an answer from across the clearing.

Before she could even begin to process this, another voice yelled out, "'Cause if there is, you tell her she took her good sweet time getting here!"

Kara sucked in a breath.

This was a dream.

It _had_ to be a dream.

Surely he couldn't possibly have survived this long. Surely the universe was just building up her hopes and her expectations that she hadn't failed for once, only to cruelly dash them with reality.

She knew that voice. Her memory was a bit foggy, coloured by almost a year and a half of separation, but it was nonetheless absolutely unmistakable.

 _Sam._

And as soon as Kara admitted that to herself, she started to smile, started to _grin_. Frak the universe. This was Sam. Against all odds he _had_ survived. Against all odds, she had finally, _finally_ kept a promise.

"Friendlies," Helo teased.

Kara didn't wait around to hear the rest of his ribbing. Instead she concerned herself with scrambling over the tree trunk, pushing past two of the other team members to sprint across the clearing.

He met her in the middle. Sam met her in the middle and they just stared at each other for a moment, as though each was unable to believe the other was actually there. He looked the same, Kara thought. Gods, he looked the same. Tall, his hair adorably tousled, blue eyes scrutinizing her and unreadable expressions flitting across his face. He smiled then, and that grin made her stomach flip.

She couldn't resist any longer. Kara darted forward and embraced him, tightly, his cheek pressed to hers and rough with stubble. He was squeezing back, just as hard, and Kara shut her eyes as emotions warred within her. She was so glad to see him, so glad he was alive, so glad to be holding him … but along with that was an overwhelming sense of disloyalty towards Lee. Which was entirely stupid; disloyalty implied guilt, and she hadn't thought guilt was the issue here.

"What took you so long?" Sam whispered in her ear, his voice gravelly and resonating through her.

 _Got a few days?_

That was what Kara _wanted_ to say, but she knew she couldn't. They didn't have time, and there was no way to discuss what had actually happened during their separation without covering several awkward topics. So she settled for the facts. "We have Marines in Raptors, we're gonna get you and your people out of here, okay?"

Sam pulled back to look at her; his smile could have powered a star. "As good as your word, huh?"

Unconsciously Kara matched that smile. "Yeah, as good as my frakkin' word. What, did you think I was going to leave you here? Now you feel like a big frakkin' idiot, don't you?"

He shook his head, a laugh breaking free. "All right, just shut up and save us already, okay?"

A man whose name she remembered to be Hilliard stepped up beside them. "People, this is nice, but we have toasters on our ass," he said, shooting Sam a significant look.

Kara glanced around, suddenly realizing that there seemed to be a number of people missing from the Resistance ranks. Hilliard was present, along with Jean Barolay and several survivalists she recognized from her previous trip to Caprica, and Sam was there, of course. But … what had happened to everybody else?

She faced Sam again, a chill prickling her skin. "Where are the rest of your people?"

Sam shook his head regretfully. "This is it. Toasters hit our base camp this morning. I lost half my crew."

Impulsively Kara hugged him again, trying to communicate sympathy, understanding, perhaps even a hint of an apology. _If only we'd gotten here sooner._ The worst thing was, she _did_ understand what he was going through, to a degree. From everything Kara had seen of the Resistance, Sam felt responsible for these people, had taken on the difficult task of leading them and cobbling them into a fighting force — reluctantly, she knew — and even though every death was the fault of the Cylons rather than Sam himself, he probably still experienced guilt. She had filled too many leadership roles herself and watched Lee command the _Pegasus_ long enough to grasp that instinctively.

But, as in every war zone, there was little time to grieve for those lost, and such was the case now. Kara and Sam had barely broken their second embrace when Sharon exclaimed, "Incoming!" Seconds later a loud explosion in the trees behind them rendered the warning moot.

Kara grabbed Sam's hand as everyone instinctively ducked, more explosions going off around them, gunshots beginning to be added to the cacophony of the bombs thudding closer and closer. She glanced to her left and saw bullet-heads advancing, weapons drawn, ready to pick off what remained of the Resistance and the rescuers too. They hadn't been kidding when they'd said they had toasters literally up their asses.

"Back to the Raptors!" she screamed over the din.

Helo and Sharon both spoke at once. "No!" the Cylon shouted.

"Shell trajectories are coming between us and the Raptors. We're cut off!" Karl added.

"They've got us zeroed in!" Kara countered. "If we stay here they're gonna chew us up!"

Sam had another solution. "All right, we gotta fall back. Position up this hill, let's go!"

Kara didn't pause to ask questions. It went without saying that he would know this territory better than she did, that he would have all the hiding places and appropriate areas of cover staked out in advance. That wasn't a military thing to do; it was a _common sense_ thing to do. "Let's go, people!"

The next minutes were a blur of activity as the group raced in the direction pointed out, trying to lay down counter-fire without getting their heads blown off. The shells were still landing, meeting their targets, one every few seconds, some so close that Kara would have sworn her hair had been singed. There was no time to make sure everybody was keeping up, no time to account for all the members of their group. It was every person for themselves. If you fell behind, you died. No nicer way to say it.

Still, she kept shouting, kept yelling at everyone to move, to go, to hurry. As a strategy it was rather ineffectual, but it made _her_ feel better. And it blocked out some of the noises from behind, people crying out as they were hit by either bullets or mortars, others demanding medics that could not be forthcoming. Sam was yelling too, just as loudly, and Kara had a fleeting thought that he'd make a good soldier if he ever set his mind to it.

The designated position turned out to be an old stone fort, long since abandoned by its builders, but standing tall against intruders and whatever the elements could throw at it. There was barely space inside to swing a rifle, but they piled into it anyway, squeezing through a narrow gap in the back and poking their guns out of a small side opening to continue laying down cover fire. Several wounded were dragged inside, and two Marines grabbed medkits and bent to attend to them.

"Sharon, take the gun!" Kara bellowed, tossing a rifle to the Cylon. "They've got us blocked in here pretty good!"

Helo was fiddling frantically with the wireless set. "Can't raise the Raptors," he announced. "The Cylons have jammed the frequencies."

Kara clenched her fists. " _Frak!_ "

All of a sudden, as though a switch had been flipped, the noises from outside cut out. Several bullets pinged feebly against the stone, a last mortar blew up a nearby tree, and then … utter silence. Not even any birds chirping or wind whistling through leaves. No Centurions waiting to burst in and take them over. Silence.

"Still out there?" Helo wondered after a beat.

"Watch yourself," Kara warned, and shoved her gun out further, peering through the sight into the trees. Several bullet-heads were marching around in the distance, but they didn't seem to be coming any closer to the fort. "Yeah," she said in answer to Karl's question. "They're holding back though."

"Yeah, but why?" Sam muttered in confusion.

"They're holding position," explained Sharon from her spot on the floor of the fort. Close to, Kara saw that she looked drawn, dark circles under her eyes. "Sending for non-lethal weapons. They want some prisoners for interrogation, and the rest they're gonna send to a Farm."

A wave of revulsion swept over Kara. _Sue-Shaun … the Cylon doctor … the women hooked up to machines, by machines … the toasters' plans for her …_ "I'm not going back to one of those Farms!" she declared hotly.

"Yeah, well, you won't have any choice!" Sharon snapped back. "None of us will. They're gonna lob some gas in here and then we'll all wake up somewhere else."

Kara slammed her fist into the ground; the pain helped her focus. "Damn."

She could feel Sam's eyes on her. "So what do you want to do here?" he asked.

Kara squeezed her own shut, the answer coming to her in a flash of unpleasant inspiration. The others weren't going to like it — _she_ didn't like it — but what choice did they all have? "Sit it out. Wait and see if she's right. If she is, then you and me, we gotta have an agreement," she replied, addressing Sam.

He frowned. "An agreement?"

She drew in a breath. "I'm not going back to one of those Farms, Sam. I'm _not_. So if she's right and they throw gas in here … you do me, I do you."

"What are you talking about?" Sam moved a little closer.

Kara grabbed her sidearm, flipped the safety off, pointed the weapon at his head. There was something oddly ironic about this, about how she was confronting her death head-on for the second time in a little over a month. Of course, to some degree Kara faced death each day, all the time in her Viper. After the initial Cylon attacks she had faced it every thirty-three minutes. They all had. But she had a weird sense of safety up in the air, like there was truly nothing that could touch her, no Raider that could possibly harm her enough that she couldn't pull her feet out of the fire somehow. On the ground, death seemed more immediate. Especially here, where she had faced it before.

"This is what I'm talking about, okay?" she said.

He nodded, looking half-awed, half-scared. "Yeah, okay."

Kara's smile was grim as she holstered the gun. "Okay."

***

They waited.

And waited.

Afternoon bled into early evening bled into late night, and still they waited.

There was little movement among the gathered survivors. They set up shifts for the watch in case the Cylons decided to advance, and that occupied Kara for a few hours until Sam insisted she let him take over. Then she could do nothing except sit on the leafy ground and stare, and think, and ponder. Three things at which Starbuck had never excelled.

But there wasn't any other way of keeping oneself busy.

She gave up on sleep about the same time the moon began to rise, lighting the trees in eerie shapes. Her head against the cold stone of the fort, Kara scrutinized Sharon. The Cylon was asleep, wrapped around Helo, the couple taking full advantage of some of the only alone time they had. No one commented on this; the Resistance was well accustomed to Sharon from the time they'd spent with her when Kara had first come to Caprica, and the _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_ crews were equally used to her presence. Kara supposed it was a mark of how far everyone had come since the first messy encounter. She still wasn't quite sure what she thought of Sharon, but had to admit that she'd been able to empathize with her more due to Hera's death.

Kara couldn't help imagining what she would do if she was in Sharon's position. What the hell would have happened if Will had died, if something had gone wrong? The kid had been an unwanted presence in her life at first, and she still sometimes resented the fact that she wasn't as free as she had previously been, that there were new demands and obligations placed upon her. That was one of the reasons she'd raised the issue of having more kids with Lee — she knew he wanted a daughter, but Kara was in no way ready, and she had wanted to make her position abundantly clear. It hadn't even been a year, after all. She needed time to stretch her wings, to bounce back, to be Starbuck again. Lee had probably been disappointed at the turn of that conversation, but too bad. As he'd rightfully pointed out, _she_ would have to do all the hard work. She wanted to be stable — well, as stable as Kara ever was, anyway — and certain and firm and perhaps most importantly, not running from the frakking Cylons on a broken-down old battlestar anymore. Right now, she couldn't hack the idea of another kid.

Especially not a daughter.

That just hit too damn close to home.

But to lose Will … even before she'd really known him, even after he was born … it would have been devastating. They had been stuck with each other for nine months, entwined, and while he'd terrified her when she had still been making up her mind what to do about him, after the choice was made, after she knew there was only one real option available to her, she'd grown … used to him. Used to his presence. Used to the fact that she felt him at night before she went to sleep and in the morning when she woke up. Pregnancy had not been an easy state for Kara, but it permitted her time to get accustomed to her son, time to reconcile herself to the fact that he was her decision and she couldn't back out or run away now. When he was born she felt curiosity. Perhaps a bit of affection. Not outright _love_ , or _bonding_ , or any of those other emotions mothers were apparently supposed to feel, and she still wasn't sure if she would categorize her current thoughts that way.

But she wanted to protect him. To make him smile, to see him happy, to watch him grow. To lose _that_ was terrifying.

Sharon, even though she was a Cylon, had probably felt even more deeply for her child, given that the baby seemed to be something she had been trying for right at the start. Kara remembered President Roslin interrogating Sharon aboard the _Astral Queen_ , and the president saying afterward that the Cylon was adamant that both her baby and Karl Agathon survive. It looked like Hera would, for a while. But then the child died. Did Sharon blame Cottle? Did she blame herself? The spark and the fire in her eyes that had been there previously whenever she looked at Helo were gone. What remained was blank, black, cold, and made you think of dark tunnels.

Kara couldn't recall the last time she'd seen Sharon smile.

Pondering Hera's death and the impact upon the Cylon occupied Kara for a few hours, but her thoughts then turned in another direction, the one she'd been scrupulously trying to avoid since learning Sam had survived.

What was she going to do about him?

Assuming they got out of this alive — which was by no means a guarantee — she would take the Resistance fighters back to _Galactica_ , and then what? Kara and Lee were back on speaking terms, mostly, and she figured that with time she would probably be able to repair the damage done to their relationship, as long as he was amenable. But that presupposed both that he was, and that Sam wouldn't try and make a play for her. She hadn't missed the light in his eyes when they hugged, the caress implicit against her back. She could see right now that there was a chain dangling around his neck as he stood on watch, and attached to that chain was the dog tag she'd given him so many months ago. He'd kept it. He hadn't tossed it aside or forgotten about it as soon as she left. He'd kept it.

Which suggested that to him, their encounter on Caprica a year and a half ago hadn't been just a one-off thing. So what the hell would happen when he found out about Lee? When he did the math and figured out that not only had she been with Lee before Caprica, but that she was pregnant with another man's child when she slept with Sam?

Gods, her life was like one of those frakking talk shows on the nighttime channels before the Colonies fell. Kara had a sudden mental image of Lee pulling out his sidearm and challenging Sam to a duel on _Galactica_ 's hangar deck, and nearly laughed aloud.

But humour wouldn't solve her problem.

Only the truth would.

Lee knew the truth. He had been understandably slow in accepting it, but at least he knew.

Sam would have to find out too.

The trouble was, Kara still couldn't be completely certain where her own feelings lay. She loved Lee. She'd told him so and she hadn't been lying. Even now, she dreaded what might happen if the Cylons advanced, if she and Sam were forced to carry out their "agreement." It was the only sensible alternative, because Kara was _not_ returning to one of those Farms. Weirdly, Will had probably saved her life last time around — she was willing to bet that if she hadn't been pregnant, the toasters would've hooked her up to one of those baby machines as soon as she recovered from the gunshot wound. But she would have no such advantage this time; the contraceptive implants Cottle had inserted underneath the skin of her left arm three months after Will's birth released a steady dose of hormones into her bloodstream, much as the shots had once done, and those implants were supposed to be ninety-nine percent effective. Kara felt she needed this peace of mind, but there was also little doubt that if she did find herself at a Farm, the luck that had originally seen her through would not hold out.

She wasn't going to give the Cylons a second chance to try it, anyway. If they moved in, Kara would kill Sam, and Sam would kill Kara, simultaneously. Idly she wondered what might happen after that, whether any of the _Galactica_ or _Pegasus_ crews would somehow get away and tell Lee the whole story. She hoped so — the pain and grief he'd suffer would be regrettable, but at least he would know. At least he wouldn't spend the rest of his life wondering what happened to her.

But if they did survive … if they did get back to _Galactica_ … Kara would need to make another choice. And no matter what (who) she chose, the other door would close, probably forever.

She had a sudden urge to tell Sam everything that had gone on, the entire truth, but this was most definitely not the time. For that matter, Kara didn't want to do it with everybody else around listening. And the sun had now risen, meaning it was time for her to relieve Sam at watch and keep an eye out, with Helo, for Cylons.

Several more hours passed, the inside of the fort grew lighter and lighter … and still nothing happened. Kara couldn't even see the toasters now, peering through the tiny opening in the stone wall. Previously they'd been marching about in the distance, but they seemed to have disappeared.

A rustle of leaves at her foot startled her, and Kara glanced momentarily down. Sam's elbow had slipped off his knee, causing him to jerk awake and almost drop his gun. She went back to the watch.

"Eighteen hours," Sam mumbled, stretching and yawning wearily. "They're taking their good sweet time out there. They could've overrun us at any point during the night."

"They're up to something," Kara said through clenched teeth, keeping her eyes trained on the distant trees.

"What are _we_ up to?" he inquired. "Got any brilliant ideas in that military brain of yours?"

In another situation she might have laughed, or teased him back. Not now. This was too serious. "Do the same thing we always do. Fight 'em till we can't."

Kara felt as much as saw Helo step up beside her. "What do you think?" Karl hissed in her ear.

She chewed her lower lip for a long moment, thinking. "Let's get a recon crew together, scout the area," Kara replied finally. "Figure out what's going on out there."

They waited, tense minutes passing as the Marines crept cautiously out of the fort and swiveled their weapons in all directions. Everyone listened hard, certain that the charade must end, that at any time Centurions would come stomping out of the trees and annihilate them all … or worse, that the knockout gas Sharon had mentioned would begin to seep through the openings in the fort. Kara kept her fingers clenched around her sidearm, ready to draw it at a second's notice.

But nothing happened.

Eventually the Marines were forced to acknowledge that no threat had presented itself, and they gestured everyone else forward with hand signals. Kara and Helo joined them quickly, followed by Sam, and together they scanned the forest and the area where the Cylons had last been spotted.

No evidence of either bullet-heads or skinjobs remained.

"They're gone," Kara frowned. "They just … left."

In the trees, the birds had begun chirping again.

Excitement and worry warred within her. On the surface, for right now, it looked as though they had survived. It looked as though, for whatever incongruous reason, the toasters had departed.

Why?

 _Why_ didn't matter.

Only one fact remained.

She was going home.


	49. Chapter 49

_That is a big frakking ship._

Sam stared out the window of the Raptor, knowing he must look pretty stupid but unable to help himself. He had never stopped believing that Kara would return with a rescue party, had accepted absolutely and implicitly that she would keep her promise, but the truth was he hadn't spared very much thought as to what might actually happen when she showed up. He knew Kara came from a battlestar in the Colonial Fleet, but, never having seen one up close, he didn't expect the sense of awe washing over him now.

Awe and … relief.

Relief that it was over. That all of this was finally, _finally_ over. He might not be able to completely return to his old life — that would be difficult, since the Colonies no longer existed — but he could at last be something other than the reluctant leader of the Resistance, the guy who planned most of the ops and felt horribly responsible if they failed. Everything Sam had done on Caprica, he'd done out of necessity. Necessity and, he supposed, pride, and anger that their homes had been attacked and invaded and their fellow humans killed. He had wanted to make sure that if he and his team didn't feel safe, neither should the Cylons. As long as they were there … they might as well _do_ something.

But he hadn't counted on how much it would begin to weigh on him after awhile. The responsibility. The fact that others now looked to _him_ to know the answers and guide them out of every situation. Even though he understood his team would never blame him for the inevitable deaths, either consciously or subconsciously, Sam placed enough blame squarely on his own shoulders to more than make up for it. He was tired of that. He was tired of leading. He wanted to leave it to the experts, let those military types like Kara be responsible for the successes and failures. He wanted, in short, simply to be precisely what he was: a civilian, with _no_ godsdamned idea what he was doing.

Now, after more than a year and a half, he would finally get the chance to do that.

And, perhaps, with someone else at his side to share civilian life.

"Put your eyes back in your head, Sammy."

Sam couldn't stop grinning, even as he rolled those eyes at Kara. Twenty-four hours ago he'd figured the odds had finally caught up with him. Now, every possibility was open, every choice his to make. Still, he had to toss out the token protest. "Don't call me Sammy."

"Why not, _Sammy?_ " Kara smirked, and Karl Agathon snickered sycophantically from the pilot's seat.

"So, you live on that thing?" Sam asked, deciding that a change of subject was in order.

She followed his gaze, to the battlestar with _Galactica_ emblazoned on its side. Agathon coughed.

"Used to." If he hadn't known better, Sam would have said Kara was blushing as she replied. "I transferred to _Pegasus_ a couple months ago."

He scrutinized her for a long moment, feeling at once curious and puzzled. When they'd boarded the plane (a Raptor? Yeah, that's what those things were called), Kara had been all smiles, full of energy, holding his hand as she sat next to him. Sam had wanted to kiss her, but there were too many other people crammed into the back of the — Raptor for that to really be decent. Come to think of it, though, they hadn't kissed even once since their reunion on Caprica. Of course, there hadn't been time, what with the siege in the forest and then the Cylons' mysterious disappearance. But it seemed like the farther they got from the planet and the closer to _Galactica_ they approached, the more withdrawn Kara became. She'd let go of his hand just before the last FTL jump, and had spent most of her time staring out the front window at the stars. Something was clearly not right. But should he ask about it? Or leave it alone?

He loved her. He wanted her to be happy.

The right thing to do was ask.

Sam reached for her again, squeezed her fingers. "Hey, you okay?"

She beamed him a bright smile, but in the low light of _Galactica_ 's docking bay, it was impossible to tell whether that smile was genuine. "Fine, Sam."

"You just seem … nervous, that's all."

"Lords, what are you, my father?" Kara snorted, sounding much more like the woman he knew. "Chill."

He reminded himself that she was under a lot of stress. Pulling off the rescue mission couldn't have been an easy thing, and she probably hadn't expected to spend almost a full day under siege from Cylons thinking she might die. _Cut her some slack, man._

They could get to particulars later.

There was some thudding and thumping as the docking clamps engaged, towing the Raptor onto a packed hangar deck. Sam waited by the hatch with Kara, noticing that she seemed to be scanning the crowd that was assembling face by face, like she was looking for someone. A friend? A colleague? It occurred to him that he knew almost nothing about her life here, who she hung around with, what she liked to do. She appeared to be close with that Agathon guy. But surely there were other people. He found himself looking forward to meeting them.

"Am I good or what?" Kara burst out as the hatch cycled open. Her comment appeared to be directed at a balding man of medium height, who was standing next to a dark-haired gentleman who exuded quiet confidence and authority. Sam remembered Kara telling him this was Admiral William Adama, who commanded the fleet.

The first man rolled his eyes, but in an affectionate sort of way. "There's gonna be no living with her now."

Sam stood awkwardly off to the side as Kara and Admiral Adama embraced. "It's good to see you," the admiral said, his voice gravelly. "Welcome back."

Kara grinned. "Thank you, sir. I brought some friends with me."

"I see."

Suddenly she seemed abashed again. "Right, right, this is … um, wow, this is Samuel T. Anders."

Adama nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "I know who he is."

Sam cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. "Damn good to meet you, sir," he said as the two men shook.

"Caprica Buccaneers," Adama stated.

"That's right." This guy was impressive.

"Hell of a player. I'm a Picon Panther fan myself."

"We enjoyed beating them too," Sam joked, then wondered if he had been too forward. But Adama didn't seem to notice, or if he did, there was no indication that he cared. He'd soon turned back to Kara in any case.

"Lee brought Will over from the _Pegasus_ , and I think they're quite anxious to see you. The formal reports can wait until later."

Kara swallowed, visibly. "Right, um, are they … how did it go?"

"They had a good time together." The admiral was smiling broadly now for some reason. "I don't believe Lee will want to go it alone again anytime soon, but it worked out. That boy of yours is getting busy. Ten cubits says he'll be crawling in no time."

Sam couldn't help trying to puzzle this all out. Who were Will and Lee? Why did Adama think Kara would want to know about them? It sounded as though Will was a child, and that this Lee might be a friend of hers who had been … babysitting? Yes, surely Kara would have left her son with someone she trusted, a colleague or someone else she was otherwise close to. He felt a bit shocked — she certainly hadn't told him she was a mother — and he wouldn't have pegged her for somebody who'd have kids hanging around. She didn't seem to be that type of person. But in the next instant Sam decided it didn't matter. So, Kara had a kid. Big deal. He couldn't help admiring her all the more for raising the child herself despite what was an obviously stressful career in the military. That couldn't be a bucket of laughs.

Then something else Adama had said filtered into his mind, and he abruptly felt like he'd been hit over the head with a saucepan.

 _That boy of yours is getting busy. Ten cubits says he'll be crawling in no time._

If the kid was getting to the crawling stage, that meant Will was at the very least nearly a year old. And _that_ meant …

Sam did some very fast mental arithmetic.

A year and a half since Kara's first visit to Caprica. Was it possible that —?

"Kara!"

They both jumped at the sound. Kara looked momentarily as though she would rather be just about anywhere else in the universe, but no one would have missed the switch in her demeanor that came when she saw the man pushing his way through the crowd toward her.

Her entire face changed. Sam had seen her playful, he'd seen her happy, he'd seen her pissed off, and he'd seen her in pain. This was different from all of those. This was something he had not seen.

Kara was _radiant_.

There was just no other word for her expression. She was looking at the man, who wore a familiar blue uniform, had his dark hair cropped short, and held an infant smiling just as widely as Kara herself. This must be the kid, Sam realized. As the two of them came closer he scrutinized the baby, looking for familiar features, for any sign that his life might be about to get a whole lot more interesting. At this distance, it was difficult to tell. He could see a _lot_ of Kara in the child's face, in Will's grin, even in the wispy blonde hair covering his head. But was Sam present?

The math might work. _Just_.

Unless he'd miscalculated. Math had never been his strong suit. He'd preferred physical education, biology, and working with computers in school.

Then Will and the man reached Kara, and Sam knew.

 _Knew._

Knew by the way Kara wrapped her arms around the other, knew by the look of bliss that slipped onto her face, knew by the way the man sighed with something very close to contentment as soon as he was in her embrace …

 _Shit._

He resisted the urge to sigh and clear his throat. That would seem petty, and he did not consider himself a petty person.

Not most of the time, anyway.

That wasn't to say that there weren't certain situations that tried his patience.

Finally Kara and the guy separated, and she seemed to remember where she was. She tacked on a bright smile as she looked from one to the other. "Lee, Sam; Sam, Lee. Now you're old friends. I'll be back." And Kara clapped them each on the shoulder and disappeared, darting off to speak with the Admiral again.

Sam stared awkwardly at Lee, who stared just as awkwardly back. The only person who _didn't_ seem perturbed by the situation was Will, who beamed a grin in Sam's direction and let out a hearty shriek. If nothing else, the infant's eyes alone put paid to the idea that Sam could be his father; it was a matter of abject simplicity to look from Will's face to Lee's and see those eyes mirrored in the elder.

"Uh," Lee started, at the same time as Sam said, "Well." This was getting ridiculous.

In absence of any other idea what to do, Sam decided to fall back on politeness. "Samuel T. Anders," he said, sticking out his hand for Lee to shake. The latter did so, his grip somehow managing to be firm and tentative at the same time.

"Lee Adama. And this is my son Will," he added unnecessarily, indicating the baby. "I've heard a lot about you, Sam."

At that, Sam couldn't help himself. "Well, I could say the same, but I'd be lying. Kara hasn't exactly been … open with me about her life here."

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't know about the full extent of _your_ relationship until just before she left on the rescue mission," Lee admitted. "Seems there were a few little details she forgot to mention."

"Yeah, are you two, um, married, or … what's the deal there?" asked Sam in a tone he hoped sounded conversational.

"No," said Lee, and he said it so quickly and decisively that Sam knew the other man was telling the truth. "I — we — well … it's complicated."

"This I can see," Sam muttered, turning back to where Kara was standing just in time to see a dark-haired man wearing a maintenance uniform dash out of the crowd and pin Brother Cavil to the side of the Raptor, bellowing for security personnel.

Everyone moved forward, low murmurs beginning to spread through the assemblage.

"What the hell?" Kara demanded of the maintenance man.

Sam felt rather puzzled as to what was going on himself. Cavil had been with the Resistance group since nearly the beginning of the occupation, and while they'd found him a little strange, most had also gotten used to him, and they counted him as a close friend. So what was all the trouble about?

"Don't move!" the maintenance man ordered Cavil. To Adama he said, "He's a Cylon."

Adama gave a quick, terse nod as a squad of Marines moved in. "Back off, Chief. We got it."

The maintenance man obeyed.

"Well, this is an awkward moment," Cavil said, unnecessarily. "Yes, he's right. I'm a Cylon. And I have a message, so … take me to your leader."

"Take him to the brig!" Adama barked.

Sam could only shake his head. How had he missed that? How in the _hell_ had he missed it?

The Resistance had had Cylons attempt to infiltrate their ranks before, and the skinjobs had been almost uniformly unsuccessful. To a machine, they managed to keep up the cover for a while and convince everyone they were honest survivalists or lucky Colonial citizens who'd just happened to be out of the line of fire on the day of the attacks. But inevitably, they would slip up. They might volunteer information one couldn't possibly obtain unless one was in the Cylons' inner circle. More often, however, the revelation of new Cylons came about by accident. Usually it happened when the Resistance operated in areas near Delphi and Caprica City heavily trafficked by multiple Cylon models. But Cavil had certainly been far more circumspect than most about his true identity. Sam still doubted it, in fact, but the maintenance man — Chief, as he was called — who'd jumped to action upon seeing Cavil seemed to be well-respected enough that his judgment was not questioned by authority figures.

He doubted it because … because that would mean that _he'd_ been wrong, personally, and that meant he had very nearly failed the Resistance, failed his friends, yet another time.

 _Then again, sometimes you can't see what's right in front of your frakking eyes anyway_ , Sam thought as he watched Kara make her way back across the hangar deck toward him.

Some of what he was feeling must have shown in his face, because Lee cleared his throat and asked delicately, "Do you guys want a minute to … talk?"

"Nah, it's fine, don't worry about it," Sam mumbled, simultaneously wondering if he was stark raving insane for not shoving the kid at Kara and proceeding to punch Lee's lights out. That was what he _felt_ like doing.

Kara reached them then, and squeezed his shoulder. "Welcome to _Galactica_ ," she said, jerking her head at the Marines marching Cavil away.

 _Yeah._

Welcome.

Right.

He watched Kara and Lee embrace again, watched Lee hand her the kid, watched her stroke Will's hair and kiss the top of his head.

 _Welcome to_ Galactica.

***

Somehow, later, he found himself sitting on a bunk.

Sam wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten there, nor how much time had passed. He recalled, dimly, the Admiral announcing that until permanent quarters could be found for the Resistance on a civilian ship, they were more than welcome to stay on _Galactica_. Adama had even assigned him a room of his own, though that room was roughly the size and shape of a walk-in closet. He didn't care. It was quiet, and he wasn't expected to be available for the Resistance. In fact, Sam doubted very much that anyone gave a shit what happened to him now.

Certainly not Kara. She'd hugged him again after Cavil was carted off, but the Admiral had wanted to see her and Lee had gone with them and Sam had no idea where they might be. He didn't really want to go after her, anyway. He loved her. But she had clearly made her decision. There was no point in chasing something that would never happen anyway.

Maybe his fantasy of setting up a life with her had been just that, a fantasy. But was he really so stupid? So _blind?_ Or had he merely been ignoring what was right in front of his face? If Will was Lee's, and if the baby was almost seven months old, that meant Kara was in all probability pregnant during her first trip to Caprica. Had she known? Even if she hadn't, the fact remained that she had been involved with Lee before meeting Sam. Kara did not strike Sam as the kind of person who would enter a relationship off a one-time tryst just because she'd conceived. And anyway, he could see just from the brief interactions on the hangar deck that something serious existed between Kara and Lee. There was more to them than simple romantic love (if indeed romantic love could ever be "simple"). They were also friends, and adversaries, and rivals, and parents. When their eyes met, it was like no one else in the room with them even existed. Lee looked at Kara as though she was fulfilling all of his most deeply-held wishes and desires and ambitions just by virtue of standing beside him. Kara looked at Lee with as much tenderness as Sam had ever seen her display, but also with an undercurrent of fear. Like if Lee stopped breathing, if he was no longer alive, Kara might also cease to exist.

How could Sam possibly compete with all of that?

The smart course of action was simply not even to try.

But not trying _hurt_. He couldn't deny that. After a year and a half of waiting, a year and a half of hoping, of trying not to hope, of trying to forget and failing, he had thought for one glorious day that he had her back. He'd believed that they could pick up where they'd left off, pick up and go someplace even better, someplace where they had a future and played pyramid together and hung out with his team and came back and drank Aerilon whiskey and frakked each other senseless. Sam had promised himself he'd have that with Kara once he was away from Caprica. He wasn't sure how he got all of it out of a dog tag and a promise to return, but it had happened, so it would be foolish to pretend otherwise.

He should've realized something was amiss in his little fantasy when Kara had started scanning the hangar deck — looking, Sam now understood, for Lee. But like an idiot, like a _complete idiot_ , he'd ignored that. Had in fact been oblivious right up until the moment Kara wrapped herself in Lee's arms.

 _Then_ he knew, and she might as well have punched him in the stomach.

She had a family. She was a family with Lee. They were a unit and they had a baby.

Why hadn't she _said_ something?

Would he have believed her if she had?

Maybe not, but at least he would've been _warned_. At least he could have dealt with having his expectations and hopes totally trashed _before_ being presented with the evidence.

He still had her tag.

Sam wasn't sure why he hadn't taken it off his chain and thrown it away, but he hadn't.

 _Frak, I really am an idiot._

Just as that uncharitable thought passed through his mind, a knock sounded at the door. No, _hatch_. Everybody around here called doors hatches.

Probably Jean. _Hopefully_ Jean. Maybe talking to her about something other than Kara might take his mind off things.

It took Sam only two steps to cross to the door (hatch), and he supposed it should say something about the state of his life that he didn't even find that fact depressing. No, there were other things on his mind.

And, because the universe was in the midst of demonstrating a heretofore-unexpressed hatred for Samuel T. Anders, Kara stood on the other side of the d — hatch.

Kara and the baby. Of course. Will was slung across one of her hips, and as Sam stood there, wondering if he should go with his first instinct and slam the hatch in their faces, the infant shrieked something unintelligible and dropped a stuffed bear he'd been holding to the metal decking.

"Hey." Kara's smile was tentative. "Will and I bring offerings."

"A stuffed toy?" Sam bent to pick it up, turning it over in his hands for a moment. "Sorry, but I grew out of those about twenty years ago."

He passed the bear back to Will, who grinned broadly and promptly dropped it again.

"Sorry," she muttered, squatting down to get it herself this time. "His new favourite hobby is dropping everything he happens to pick up. Lee says it's all a game to him and that it's a sign he's developing properly, whatever the frak that means."

Sam crossed to the middle of the room again, needing the distance. "You really think you should be swearing in front of him like that?"

"We figure if a few bad words is the worst he picks up from us as he grows, we've done our job," Kara smirked.

"Right." Sam almost smiled back — that was such a _Kara_ thing to say — before he remembered that he wasn't in the mood. Instead he sank down on his bunk as Kara shut the hatch behind her with a clunk.

He couldn't help gazing at her as she made her way over to a small desk and chair in the opposite corner. Everything about Kara was the same, which was one of the reasons it felt so painful for Sam to acknowledge her as anything but the woman he had been in love with for the last year and a half. Her hair was perhaps a little longer, almost down past her shoulders now when she didn't have it pulled back in a ponytail, and she was a bit heavier than she had been before, though only a bit. Otherwise, however, she hadn't changed. Her eyes, her lips, her smile, the way she moved and spoke …

Damn, he _had_ to stop thinking like this.

"How did you figure out where to find me?" Sam asked at length.

Kara shrugged. "The deck crew knows everything."

"Oh," was all he could manage as he watched her arrange Will on her lap.

"That and the Admiral slipped me your billet number. Helps to be right in with the higher-ups sometimes, and all that."

 _Yeah, I'll bet._ Sam could barely restrain himself from clenching his fists, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. For the first time he noticed that there was a slight flush on her cheeks, and that her lips looked fuller and redder than usual. What had she been up to before she'd come here? Had she been with _him?_ Had Lee dragged her into the nearest storage compartment and locked the hatch and pressed her up against the wall and _shown_ her exactly how glad he was to see her?

"Sorry about the kid, by the way," Kara was continuing, her left foot jouncing an unconscious rhythm to keep Will amused. "Lee had to go back on duty, so I took the goods."

"No problem." What else could he really say? "I guess I'm just wondering why you're here."

She shot him a look, as if to say, _Isn't it obvious?_ "Well, I thought we had some things to work out, but hell, maybe I'm wrong."

Finally Sam succumbed to the acidity boiling through him; he was only human, after all. "You'll forgive me for saying this, Kara, but I really don't see what we have to _work out_. 'Cause it looks to me like your life is all set. You've got Lee, you've got your kid, so I don't know what the point is of me hanging around. To be honest I'm not even sure why you came back for me. Why mess up your perfect little life?"

" _Perfect?_ " Kara snorted. "Sammy, you need a serious and bracing reality check if you think my life is _perfect_ , okay? I came back for you because I made you a promise, and I am not the kind of person who goes around breaking promises." A shadow passed over her face as she said those words. "And I'm sorry that when you got here things weren't like you thought they'd be, but —"

"You're damn right they weren't!" Sam interrupted hotly. "You gave me your tag and we slept together! So I thought maybe, just maybe, that meant something! I _wasn't_ naïve enough to believe you'd wait for me but I figured at least we might have each other if you came back to Caprica! And instead I get back here and I find you not only with somebody else, but you also have a _baby!_ So things _aren't_ like I thought they'd be, no!"

Kara bit her lip, and he felt a perverse surge of pleasure. "Look, this isn't easy for me either. Just because I have Will and Lee and I are … whatever, doesn't mean I don't care about you. I do, Sam. I do."

"It's sure as shit not looking that way to me. I mean, did you _know_ you were pregnant with some other guy's kid when we frakked?"

"I didn't." She ducked her head, but Sam sensed she was telling the truth. "I didn't find out until I got hauled off to that godsdamned Farm and the toasters wanted to hook me up to their reproductive machines like every other woman they kidnap. But they couldn't, because they'd done testing beforehand, and there was a little glitch." Kara hugged Will closer. "I snuck out into the hallway when they thought I was asleep and I heard Simon and the blonde toaster talking. He was saying something about not being able to proceed because of a gestation in progress, and that he'd have to get approval from the higher-ups to terminate."

Sam wasn't sure what to say to that, especially not with Will right there chewing solemnly on the ear of his bear. So he kept silent.

Kara chewed the inside of her cheek. "Anyway, you know the rest. Blew the frak outta that place and left. I never wanted kids, Sam. Never thought they'd be something I'd go for. But when I was thinking about what to do, whether to get rid of it or not, I couldn't get away from the fact that the baby probably saved my damn life. It's not the only reason I kept him and it's not even the most important reason. But it's one of them."

"And Lee?" he forced himself to say.

"Will's his. I know that for sure; I had the doc do a test. And I do love him." She tipped her chin up, looking almost defiant. "But it doesn't mean I don't feel anything for you."

"So where does that leave us?"

Sam knew, as he asked, that the answer to the question was already self-evident. _It leaves you with him to be a happy little family and me with a whole lot of regrets._

"I don't know," Kara admitted.

"You don't _know?_ "

"No!" she burst out. "Because you know what, I want him but I want you too, which is just a really frakked-up way of saying I don't know _what_ I want."

"Well, I do." He grasped the chain around his neck, held up her tag. "I want this, Kara. I want what we were. I want what we had. But I guess I'll just have to learn to live with the disappointment, huh?"

"Sam —"

"Don't," Sam said, more quietly, and he _hated_ this, hated that he was having to do this, but he saw no alternative. "I can't … I can't just wait around for you to decide one way or another. I can't be the guy you bounce to whenever there's something wrong with you and Lee. I love you a lot. But I can't let myself get strung along like that, especially not when there's a kid involved. I can't." He shrugged helplessly, detaching the tag from the chain. "You came back to Caprica and you kept your promise to me and for that, I will _always_ be grateful. I will always love you. You saved my life."

"Right." Kara took the tag, not looking at him.

"I can't be what you want me to be." He thought of Lee's expression on the hangar deck, of Kara's. "Actually no, that's not what I mean. I can't … I can't be _who_ you want me to be. Okay?"

It hurt to see her turn away. It hurt to see her stand, shift the baby, head for the hatch, one hand still closed around the dog tag. Even Will stared balefully over her shoulder, like he understood the gravity of the situation. Of course, he couldn't.

It hurt, and Sam would feel the pain.

But he had to do this.

He _had_ to.

"Okay," she whispered at last.

"Kara," he called as she reached for the hatch wheel.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Why did he say that? _Why?_ Because it would only prompt a response, a response that had every potential to haunt him.

Kara delivered. "I love you too, Sam."

Honestly. Sincerely. Without a hint of deception, nor a hint that she was simply saying it because she thought it was what he wanted to hear.

She meant it. She really meant it.

The click of the hatch closing held finality in every syllable.


	50. Chapter 50

Though there were many matters to occupy her over the next several weeks, Kara found that she couldn't quite leave her last conversation with Sam behind. Guilt was funny like that. It stuck around at the back of your subconscious and usually chose the most inconvenient moments to reappear. Her situation was not helped by the fact that Will seemed to have developed a bizarre obsession with the man who'd returned his beloved bear. Kara was in the habit of bringing her son with her when she went on courier runs to _Galactica_ , mainly so that she could keep her promise to Bill Adama about visits between grandfather and grandson, but they had spotted Sam in the corridor on several occasions, and each time Will greeted him as though the two were long-lost friends.

Neither Kara nor Sam could figure it out, and Kara felt even guiltier for the infant's behaviour. Being in contact with Will had to represent the worst kind of slap in the face for Sam, reminding him of just who had won and who had lost when it came to Kara — a contest in which Sam hadn't even known he was entered prior to arriving aboard _Galactica_. He had to look into Lee's eyes every time Will smiled at him, a poignant indicator of the victor's presence.

But to his credit, Sam didn't appear to mind. Not outwardly, in any case. He always treated Kara cordially and with respect, and after some initial awkwardness, seemed to get on quite well with Will. This was no doubt due at least partially to how outgoing the kid was, how eager he acted around new people. Kara recognized the same trait in herself, and she loved her son for it. But it was also a little inconvenient when the object of his affections was someone she'd rather avoid right now.

Lee, for his part, made no comment on his child's new fixation. Kara had leveled with him about it immediately, not wanting to be accused of hiding any other information, and he'd shrugged his shoulders in the manner of one acknowledging that there was little to do. He had been surprisingly unconcerned with what had happened before the mission to Caprica, though their first intimate encounter after her return had been rough for both of them, full of each partner attempting to make their mark on the other. She was sure Lee's back and shoulders were covered in scratches, and she felt raw and sore from where he had driven himself into her with almost animalistic fervor. But afterward he'd held her close, tenderly, their bodies pressed together under the covers of their bed.

"I dreamed you didn't come back." His voice had sounded far away, vulnerable. "While you were on Caprica."

Kara had sighed, reminding herself that patience was still in order. He'd been especially fragile since the incident on the experimental basestar, and tended to become clingy at odd moments. This wasn't the time to tell him what had actually happened on Caprica with the siege.

"Well, I'm here now, right?"

"Yeah." Lee kissed the back of her neck.

"I'll always come back, Lee. If I can, I'll always come back." She drew in a breath, pushing aside her own residual fear at making a promise neither partner had any idea if she could keep.

"Right."

Kara turned to face him. "I love you, and I love Will. You know that, don't you?"

"It just might not be up to you, that's all," Lee mumbled.

"Well, we'll have to make sure it is, then."

She kissed his objections away, pausing to suck lightly at his cheeks, his nose, his neck, his forehead, watching contentment slip onto his face. For Lee, this was where he belonged and where he was happiest: in her arms, his own wrapped around her, surrounded physically and mentally by the woman he loved nearly unconditionally. Kara envied him that simplicity of thought. He wasn't the one who'd been told, over and over and over, that he was a cancer and that whomever he loved would ultimately end up destroyed by his own hand. He wasn't the one to whom the gods had proven that, vanishing his first love in a perfectly preventable ball of flame. He wasn't the one who had to see a thin puckered scar bisecting skin and understand _all_ the meanings of that scar. The truth was that Lee'd had an advantage in the aftermath of the shooting. Heavy painkillers had the fortunate side effect of playing havoc with one's memory, so he probably didn't recall most of the early days. He certainly gave no hint that he could remember waking up in the recovery room after the surgery, nor any of the rocky hours following that time when Kara had been afraid to leave his bedside because that might be the last she'd see of him. They didn't talk about those moments in any case. Nor did they speak of the _other_ difficult periods. How she'd needed to coax him out of bed to go to the gym for physical therapy, and how the pain in his face as they'd simply sat there on the edge of the mattress waiting for him to get his breath had almost, almost, caused her resolve to collapse. How in the early days, that pain was so intense it made him physically sick after every session. All the other things that still haunted Kara whenever she saw that scar, the things that hearkened back to even Zak.

Lee had a similar incident of his own to feel guilt over, but the events of the experimental basestar had not been precisely equivalent. He'd gotten Kara back, whole and essentially undamaged, and as long as he had her to hold close, he seemed to be able to deal with the residual difficulties. He was as certain in his conviction that he loved her and she belonged with him as he was in the fact that a pencil would fall to the deck if he let it go. His conclusions were as incontrovertible and unassailable as gravity. How she envied him.

Kara knew she loved Lee. She knew she loved Will. She knew she needed them both just as surely as she needed air and water. But she could not be sure that the universe would allow her to keep them. She and Zak had been a couple for three years before the accident that claimed his life and they'd been engaged for one of those years. Kara and Lee, meanwhile, had four months yet to traverse in advance of _their_ one-year relationship marker. Things in her life were more certain than they had ever been, and yet somehow, that made them equally _un_ certain. The gods could still decide to take Lee from her at any time.

Under the circumstances, this worldview was somewhat bizarre. In fact, Kara would have chastised anyone else in her situation for holding it. Live for the moment. Don't worry about tomorrow because you might not _have_ a tomorrow. Yet it was precisely _because_ they might not have a tomorrow that she was afraid to relinquish that last bastion of control, that last bit of disbelief that this could actually be real. She knew for certain that if she did relinquish it and either Lee or Will was subsequently taken, it would be a blow to her life that was simply not survivable.

Hell, she'd barely survived _Zak_.

Ironically, all of these barriers also meant that she could express her affection for Sam, freely and openly and without fear of retribution. Kara had wondered about her parting shot to him following their initial conversation for days. _Why_ had she said she loved him? Of course, partially because it was true. She _did_ love him. But, she soon realized, not in the same way she loved Lee and her son.

Sam was uncomplicated. He knew none of the messy history that existed between Kara and Lee and Zak, nor was he involved in any of that history. He saw Kara as _Kara_ , not as Starbuck or as Zak's fiancée or as the woman who had killed one of his sons. In that way, he'd glimpsed a side of her that few were allowed to see. The side of Kara that was just as uncomplicated, and could even be carefree given the right motivation. She was getting used to displaying that side around Lee, but with Sam, it came easily and naturally.

However, Sam had also been quite correct when he'd said there was no way he could compete with what Lee meant to her. Her entire body did not go warm when she was around Sam. She didn't feel compelled to smile for no reason. She didn't constantly check to see where Sam was and whether he was looking at her, the way she unconsciously did around Lee. She didn't worry over Sam's welfare the way she worried about Lee. Certainly, Kara _cared_ about Sam, and she wanted him to be all right. She'd gone back to Caprica to rescue him in order to keep a promise. That having been done, she didn't find herself constantly wondering if he was okay. And she could show other sides of her personality to Lee, though realizing that was permissible had taken a long, long time. She could be vulnerable around him because she'd seen _him_ vulnerable — though Kara of course tried to cultivate herself as a strong person as often as she could.

Around Lee, she felt … _complete_.

So her decision was probably correct. In the short term it hurt, to acknowledge the possibilities that would now go unexplored. Will's infatuation didn't help. But Sam was a good person. He deserved to spend his life with another good person, a person far better than Kara. Kara knew that just as much as he couldn't be to her what she needed, neither could she be to _him_ what _he_ needed. And she would get over the sting of their separation, just as she had gotten over others, in the past.

Of course, her somewhat-messy personal life wasn't the only preoccupation, nor was it even the most important one. Kara's first briefing on the _Pegasus_ after she'd returned from Caprica presented her with such a blizzard of information that she felt compelled, for the first time _ever_ , to take notes. Lee had laughed at her for that, but really, what was a person supposed to do? Raptors didn't jump to the wrong coordinates and accidentally discover habitable planets every day.

For that was what had happened to Racetrack and Skulls on their aborted trip to Caprica: they'd been about to return to _Galactica_ as per mission instructions when a large planet had appeared on their DRADIS screen. Upon the completion of a standard scan, Maggie had noted that aside from some extremes at the poles, the planet was within temperature norms for human habitation, albeit cooler than any of the Twelve Colonies had been. It also boasted breathable air and a particularly attractive spit of land next to a convenient water source. But what made the planet even better was its position sheathed within a large nebula. DRADIS went nuts around there, and it was just conceivable that, with a bit of luck, it would be invisible to any Cylons who might come to call.

Overnight, the planet had become the major issue that everyone in the Fleet was talking about. The presidential campaign of Gaius Baltar, which had been lurching and staggering along without any real momentum before the planet's discovery, suddenly looked like a legitimate threat to Laura Roslin's reelection hopes. This was because Baltar — with the help of his campaign manager Tom Zarek, Kara felt certain — had seized upon the planet as an issue to unite the people, arguing that instead of continuing the search for Earth, humanity ought to settle right here and live out its days under the open air instead of cooped up inside what amounted to floating metal boxes.

Kara happened to agree with Roslin that there were absolutely no guarantees, that they shouldn't give up just because an easier option had presented itself. Lee explained to her that preliminary planetary surveys indicated any life for humanity would be extremely difficult, owing to the harsh weather conditions and the inherently uncertain nature of growing one's own crops, which was the lifestyle Baltar was pitching. It was doubtful that they had the materials and wherewithal to establish any kind of permanent infrastructure down there anyway.

Yet the majority of humanity did not appear to have thought that far ahead. Instead they were eating up the rosy vision of the future Baltar painted for them: beds instead of bunks, houses instead of cabins, grass and dirt underfoot instead of metal decking, real oxygen and nitrogen instead of recycled chemical air, the sun on your face rather than artificial lights that always buzzed a bit. Having just returned from Caprica, Kara could admit that the pull of the planet must be a powerful one to civilians who'd been cooped up in their respective ships ever since the attacks. But life down there was going to be so difficult, so near to impossible, that it hardly seemed worth the payoff. Lee had been afraid at first that Kara might join the ranks of those eager to move down there, but Kara couldn't think of many things she wanted to do _less_. The _Pegasus_ , and to an extent the _Galactica_ , was her home. Or, put more precisely, her home was wherever Lee and Will were, and Lee couldn't leave his command. She felt sure she should take Will down there just so that he could have the experience of grass and dirt and sun and all the rest of it, but occasional visits were very different from permanent settlement.

Besides, she'd have to give up flying. And _that_ idea, above almost all others, was abhorrent to Kara.

Even though the Cylons had apparently turned tail and run — this according to the skinjob Kara had unwittingly brought back from Caprica, right before he was flushed out an airlock — there was still plenty to do, and still plenty of attraction for Kara in directing daily CAPs. (Lee didn't quite believe the toasters were really gone, and she was inclined to agree with him.) The problems began on election day, when Lee reminded her thirty-seven times (she counted) to go vote before her shift. They began when what looked like a come-from-behind victory on Roslin's part was, bizarrely, overturned, and Gaius Baltar sworn in as President of the Twelve Colonies (Lee muttered about tampering and vote rigging, but Kara mostly ignored him; she'd done _her_ civic duty). They began when _Cloud Nine_ was destroyed by a nuclear detonation moments after the new president was sworn in.

They began when Baltar refused an official investigation of the tragedy, and instead issued his first executive order: that the entirety of the fleet was to jump, immediately, to the planet that had been designated as New Caprica.

Thereafter, nothing about life seemed to be the same as it had been before.

Each evening brought new names to what Kara and Lee referred to (first affectionately and then not-so-affectionately) as The List.

The List was begun for practical reasons. They needed an official roster of just who had decided to settle on the planet. Who was going to be part of the first scouting teams, who had signed up to head the reconstruction crews, who was taking responsibility for overseeing the infrastructure (such as it was), who wanted to be included in the phalanx of officials surrounding the new president. The List had two sections, military personnel and civilians, with a subsection under military for those who would be mustering out to live civilian lives. It was that list in particular that was of interest to Kara and Lee, because every night, it seemed like someone else they knew was deciding to go down to the planet — even people they would never have pegged as being suited for planetary life.

"Sam's going down," Kara announced after one of her courier runs, and Lee, to his credit, listened attentively that night as she delineated all the reasons this was a good idea and all the reasons it was a bad idea.

"Dee isn't," Lee said a week later when he let himself into their quarters and leaned against the doorjamb of the head, watching Kara give Will a bath.

"Really?" Kara whipped around in surprise and paid for it a moment later as a huge wave issued forth from the tub and drenched her nearly from head to foot. " _Frak!_ "

Lee laughed, long and loud, stopping only when Kara picked up a soapy sponge and aimed.

"Hey, hey, hey, all right, it isn't funny!" He threw up his arms in surrender.

"You are a nine-month-old kid," Kara informed her giggling son as she turned back to the bathtub. "So how in the hell am I this wet?"

"He takes after you, Starbuck," Lee contributed sagely from the doorway. "Never attack your opponent from the front if you can wait until he's not paying attention."

"Oh yeah?" she muttered, and bent her head close to Will's as Lee turned away. "Let's show him a thing or two about letting your guard down, huh?"

Will laughed in delight — but quietly — and Kara helped him press the sponge into the water, saturating it as much as possible and then adding a little more soap. Mother and son waited, patiently, while Lee unbuttoned several buttons of his uniform and strolled back into the other room to collect some flight rosters sitting on the coffee table. Kara crouched low when she heard his footsteps approaching the head, pressed a finger to her lips for Will's benefit, pulled her arm back —

With the aid of a pilot's uncannily precise aim, the sponge flew across the room and out the door, colliding head-on with the side of Lee's skull and splattering water in all directions. Most of that water landed on the flight rosters, which were now an unrecognizably sopping mess, but a good deal made it onto Lee himself, all over his uniform and dripping down to form a puddle on the (thankfully not carpeted) floor. Kara was also pleased to note an impressive backsplash covering the wall beyond.

For the span of approximately five seconds, silence reigned.

Then his head turned, and Kara affected the most innocent expression she could manage.

"Did you," Lee asked very quietly, "throw that?"

"Maybe?" Kara suggested.

" _Maybe?_ "

"Maybe you shouldn't let your guard down, _sir_ ," was all she said before dissolving into loud guffaws. Will, clearly thinking that the act of drenching his father was some terrific new game, splashed happily and sent more water cascading onto the soaked floor.

For a moment, Lee looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or yell. Eventually he split the difference, throwing the ruined rosters down and charging into the head, sweeping a towel from the rack and bending to scoop Will from the tub in one smooth motion. Kara bellowed with mirth and scrambled after him as he hurried into their bedroom with his giggling prisoner. Lee tossed his son gently onto the bed and let out a muffled "Oof!" as Kara grabbed him around the waist and tackled him too. This led to several minutes of protracted wrestling, during which both Lee and Kara got hit a lot by the towel, before everyone collapsed in a grinning heap.

"You're gonna have to redo those rosters, by the way," Lee said cheerfully once they had gotten their breath back.

" _Me?_ "

"Yeah, well, that sponge didn't just decide to take wing and hit me all by itself, did it?"

Kara tilted her head in consideration. "Guess not, but I'm not the one who told our kid to always attack when his opponent's back is turned."

"So you're saying it was all Will's idea?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded.

"He got good range," Lee noted. "Maybe we should train up that sponge, have it fly CAP."

"Is that your official expert opinion, Commander?" Kara poked him in the ribs.

"Yes, Captain, you are officially expendable," he announced, not quite able to hide his grin. "You're hereby replaced as CAG and flight instructor by the sponge. Hand over your wings."

"Good, I guess I'll go down to New Craprica and play tent house with Sam, then!"

Now Lee let out a guffaw of his own. " _What?_ What did you say?"

"New Caprica!"

"No, no, no, you said —" He was now laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face. "You said New _Crap_ rica!"

"Well, it is gonna be crap, if you think about it," Kara defended, but she was laughing too, and they didn't stop for a good long time.

***

Another month added many more new names to The List. It also brought with it additional news. President Baltar announced that a groundbreaking ceremony would be held in one week's time to, as the press release said, "break new ground as the search for a better tomorrow at last comes to a successful close." Lee rolled his eyes and Kara made fake gagging noises, but attendance was mandatory even if you weren't mustering out or planning to live on New Caprica, so they reluctantly penciled it into their schedules. Kara had to admit, if only to herself, that she was curious to see the settlement. Lee had been down a few times and described it mostly as a collection of raggedy-looking tents bolted optimistically into mud, but apparently significant progress had been made over the last month, so it would be entertaining at least.

Lee then returned from a meeting with the Admiral — he and his father held those twice weekly now even though there was very little to report — and announced that Chief Tyrol had asked for a discharge for himself and Cally. Cally had recently found out she was pregnant, and the couple married soon after in a small shipboard ceremony. Now they'd decided that they wanted to raise their child under fresh air and real sunshine, though as Lee told Kara, Adama hadn't yet decided whether he was going to approve their discharge.

"Gods, you couldn't pay me enough to go down there and pop out a kid in a tent with no heat," Kara declared.

"Maybe not, but that's what they seem to want," replied Lee. "Dad's trying to convince them to stay on _Galactica_ and take advantage of the better medical care. All New Caprica's got is basically a glorified field hospital, and not a very sophisticated or sterile one at that. We've already lost a couple people to infections. If she runs into complications, the best place for her is up here."

"But he can't deny them the transfer, right? Not if they really want to go."

Lee shrugged. "He's putting off his decision as long as possible. I guess he hopes they'll change their minds."

Kara doubted it. Both Tyrol and Cally could be stubborn as Tauron mules when they had their teeth in something. But she didn't have time to point that out, because Lee had already moved on to another topic.

He tapped an open folder in his lap; Kara could see it contained the latest version of The List. "I told you Dee's not going down, right?"

"Yeah, about a month ago." She vaguely remembered being surprised at the revelation, but hadn't had much chance to follow it up in the wake of their subsequent water fight. Kara leaned back against the pillows of their bed and checked on Will, whose eyes were growing heavy at her breast. A few more minutes and he'd be out for the night. "Why?"

"Well, Dad was saying, and I think I agree, that it's high time I appoint a new XO. Even with the Cylons gone it would at least be helpful to have someone around to handle all the extra paperwork you and I've been grappling with."

Kara couldn't help arching an eyebrow skeptically. "And you think _Dee_ would be a good person for that?"

"As good a person as any. She's one of the most highly-qualified people who _isn't_ going down to New Caprica, and might conceivably be talked into coming over here. Unless you're interested?" Lee looked almost hopeful.

"No way, Apollo. Count me out."

"I figured you'd say that." He chuckled. "Anyway, I talked to her on a preliminary basis while I was over there, and she's willing. So we got the transfer application started, and with a bit of luck she'll be with us by the groundbreaking ceremony."

"Okay." Kara gazed down at her son for a moment, watching his suckling become slower and slower as sleep overtook him. Sooner or later she'd have to break him of the nursing before bed habit — especially since it was often the only way he'd permit himself to go down — but for right now she had to allow for the fact that she enjoyed this closeness they shared. It was a closeness that was theirs alone; even Lee, who lacked the proper bodily equipment, could not partake. She had found nursing weird at first, but over a period of months as she did it more and more, it morphed from bizarre to acceptable to … actually somewhat normal. The time would eventually come when she'd wean her son, or he'd wean himself, but that time had not yet arrived. Mothers were encouraged to nurse for as long as they comfortably could (each nursing infant consumed proportionally less solid food, leaving those resources free to nourish older children and adults), and Kara planned to keep it up at least until the kid's first birthday.

She cleared her throat as Lee came to sit by them on the bed; another thought had occurred to her.

"You think Dee'll be okay with coming over here? You know, with … us?" It was no secret that Dee had once had designs on romancing Lee, and given Kara's experiences with Sam, she had no desire to make anyone else uncomfortable.

Lee pulled her to him, leaned her against his chest, stroked Will's hair. "She's not blind, Kara," he said at length. "When you were expecting Will I talked to her. She'd been coming on to me in defense classes and I just … I didn't feel right misleading her or making her think I felt the same way. Nothing has changed for me. Dee knows we live together. She knows we have a baby."

"Yeah." Kara inhaled, let him fill her nostrils. He still smelled so good to her. "I was thinking about something Sam said the other day, when he was explaining why he wanted to move down to New Caprica. He said … distance was better. He said he wanted us to be friends, that he didn't mind about Will, but that he needed distance."

"He probably just doesn't want to see me every day," Lee said.

"Well, does Dee want to see _me_ every day?" asked Kara.

"She had to see you every day on _Galactica_ , don't forget."

"I haven't lived on _Galactica_ for months."

"True." He sighed, heavily. "I'll talk to her about that, too."

"Good." She took his right hand, kissed the fingers.

Ordinarily, Kara might not even have thought about Dee, or considered who she might be offending. But things were different now. Sam had opened her eyes to some of those differences. Will had made her aware of others.

And with a supposed new start, a new planet, even though she wasn't going down there …

Well, it only made sense to do things right.

Didn't it?


	51. Chapter 51

"So, how's it looking?"

Lee paused, casting a considering eye over the small settlement. There were more tents, arranged row by row by flapping row along the sand. Generators hummed steadily nearby. And certainly, the settlement was beginning to be populated by more of the citizenry. Most civilians had requested, and been granted, permission to make their way down to the planet immediately, as soon as there were places to put them all that were protected from the elements. The military soon followed them, such that the split between enlisted and non-enlisted personnel on the ground and in the sky was probably about fifty-fifty by now. Still, that meant very little for the overall habitability of the place. There were only a few of those generators, not nearly enough to provide the necessary heat on what was apparently quite a chilly planet. And the fact remained that at the end of the day, the tents were still … _tents_. Hardly the idyllic utopia promised to the new colonists by Gaius Baltar.

Then again, Lee didn't plan on listening to anything Baltar said anytime soon. He'd stopped trusting the then-scientist a couple Colonial Days ago.

"It's better," Lee told Kara. "Looks more like a settlement and less like a tent city, but I'd still rather sleep in a warm bunk every night than muck around in this … muck."

Kara snorted and burst out laughing. "Yeah, survival exercises were never your thing, huh, Apollo?"

Lee blinked, shifting Will from his left hip to his right. "If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, that was a long time ago and —"

"— and you're older and wiser now, right?" She punched his arm. "Zak was telling me this one time you and he went camping and it took you about five hours to put up the tent, and it collapsed on you just as a thunderstorm —"

"Zak had a talent for exaggeration," he reminded her, and was luckily saved from a continuation of that particular story by Sam Anders, who came strolling up to them with a beer and a pamphlet in his hand.

Will twisted in his father's arms and beamed, calling out a happy, "Ah- _gah!_ "

"Hey, you!" Sam ruffled the boy's hair with a grin. "Still giving your dad gray hair?"

"He's doing his best," Lee nodded, unable to help himself from returning the smile. "Keeps Kara and I on our toes."

If Sam felt any bitterness at that statement, he didn't show it. "Cool. You guys here to see Baltar put a shovel in the ground?"

Kara wrinkled her nose. "Some genius decided attendance was mandatory, so yeah, I guess so. Just an excuse for grandstanding by a certain president, if you ask me."

"Yeah, how'd he say it in the brochure?" Sam consulted his pamphlet. "'Join the celebration as we break ground for a better tomorrow!'"

"Aww, it's such a load of crap," she returned with a smirk.

"I hear there's an open bar …" Sam trailed off mischievously.

"Now, see, this guy is smart," Kara said, turning to Lee in the manner of one who had apparently only just figured out a given fact. "We should listen to him, Commander."

"You've got a one-track mind, Starbuck." He ruffled her hair affectionately, then felt embarrassed at doing so in front of Sam. Luckily, the latter didn't appear to mind.

Kara looped her arms over Lee's and Sam's shoulders, guiding them unceremoniously towards the centre of the settlement. "Let's go find us a better tomorrow!"

***

As it turned out, there was hardly time for even half a drink before they needed to be at the groundbreaking ceremony. Privately Lee agreed with Kara and Sam that there was not much point to it, that it would merely consist of a bunch of bored-looking officers and civilians staring blankly at Baltar as the president tossed some dirt around, and then made some speeches. But Lee was also coming to the realization that he and Kara — and Will, to a certain extent — were public figures. People knew them. They knew who they were, what they looked like, what they had done in service to the fleet. They knew how Kara and Lee were contributing to the future, as well, with their ten-month-old son and perhaps the promise of more kids on the way. (Neither Lee nor Kara had broached that last subject with each other lately, but one look at the colonists' adoring smiles confirmed that they believed in that potential.) Lee was the Commander of the battlestar _Pegasus_. Kara was his CAG, star pilot, and partner. They were role models. He didn't exactly feel comfortable with that — it seemed a lot to live up to, particularly since he and Kara weren't even bound together in any kind of formal or legal manner — but Lee reminded himself that he'd spent his entire _existence_ living up to one thing or another, so he should be used to it by now.

Kara, of course, was irreverent as ever when it came to being a role model. She could be staid and serious, as she was during much of the groundbreaking ceremony, but it was all an act. Lee knew that for sure when she leaned over halfway through and whispered, "Your fly is open." It wasn't, but a wave of momentary panic still flooded through him, and to her delight he did look quickly up and down. Thereafter she sat with an infuriating little smirk on her face, while Lee tried desperately not to think of all the ways he'd like to go about wiping that smirk off.

When the tedium of the ceremony had finished at last, Lee, Kara, Sam, Tigh, Ellen, Dee, Racetrack, Barolay and several others all headed back to the open bar to recover. A huge platform had been set up nearby, music was playing, and a large group was already dancing. Lee didn't feel drunk enough for that yet, so he contented himself with nursing a glass of ambrosia and listening as conversation flowed around him, occasionally contributing a word or two, but mostly admiring Kara (seated beside him) and making faces at Will (who rested contently on Sam's lap as the latter told a story involving two Buccaneers rookies, a ball of twine, a set of handcuffs and a bowl of gelatin).

Kara's hand found his under the table and he leaned over to kiss her, the ambrosia starting to settle in him now. "You're drinking?" Lee inquired, tasting alcohol on her breath.

"I pumped, tightass." She rolled her eyes.

"All right, fine. Just checking." He held up his hands, a gesture of surrender.

"Besides, Helo's offered to take Will for the night, so he won't be getting it from me anyway," Kara went on in an undertone.

"He's okay with that?"

She shrugged. "Said he was. He wants us to have a fun night, get drunk off our asses, let down our hair. Talking of which, first thing I'm doing when we get back to _Pegasus_ is giving you a haircut."

Lee blushed as Kara ruffled the hair in question. "Come on, it's not that bad, is it?"

"It is getting kind of overgrown," Dee contributed, helpfully.

"Yeah, you look like a badger crawled up and died on top of your head, man," said Sam, unhelpfully.

"Gee, thanks," Lee muttered. He hadn't realized everyone else was listening.

The talk soon turned to other topics, thankfully, and as the assemblage grew drunker, more people began to get up and dance as the colonists gradually lost their inhibitions. Karl Agathon arrived in a Raptor as promised near nightfall, and left with Will, the infant's overnight bag, and a long list of Lee's instructions ringing in his ears. Kara just rolled her eyes again and set about dragging Lee back to the party, which had picked up quite a bit of steam by that point.

"Kara, _no_ …" He started shaking his head immediately when he saw where she was leading them, towards the stairs of the dance platform.

"Lee, for gods' sake, do I have to feed you ambrosia intravenously before you relax?" Kara demanded. "It's a _party_. Nobody cares if you make an idiot of yourself because everybody else is doing the exact same thing. So get your ass up there and _dance with me_."

"I just want to know how the hell you can pronounce _intravenously_ after four glasses of — what were you drinking again?"

"Picon firewhiskey." She tugged him up the stairs. "Come on, lightweight."

Kara pulled them right into the middle of the circle, immediately taking his hand and starting to spin him at an almost dizzying pace. Lee felt a bit muddled at first, not exactly sure how the complex handoffs everyone seemed to be doing were supposed to work, but she didn't let him go until he'd figured it out, and by then it was too late not to participate anyway.

So he went with it.

Lee could hardly remember the last time he'd danced, completely carefree, nothing on his mind except the present. There had been Colonial Day, but even that was nowhere close to this moment. On the first Colonial Day after the attacks, everyone celebrated, but underneath that was a grim understanding of how far they had yet to go. Lee himself had been preoccupied with his own concerns, with the weight of Kara in his arms and trying to divine precisely what she was to him, attempting to reconcile the love he knew he felt with the respect he still ought to possess for his little brother. Of course, that confusion had translated into an ill-advised blurting out of those feelings on his part, which sent her running. If not for Will, he doubted she would ever have come back to him.

But tonight … tonight was different. Blissfully, wonderfully, thankfully _different_.

Tonight, no one had anything on their minds but the freedom they felt. Freedom from the Cylons, freedom from the war, freedom from all the grief and suffering and pain the destruction of the Twelve Colonies had caused them. Here was a chance to start over. Here was an opportunity to begin the kind of future that was merely a pipe dream since the genocide. Truly, he had few concerns and even fewer worries. The burden of commanding an entire battlestar felt like it had eased, dissolved by the end of the war and the fact that so many _Pegasus_ officers and deckhands were mustering out to live on New Caprica. Lee's fear vanished almost in proportion to the dwindling numbers of people for whose lives he was ultimately responsible.

For one glorious night, he could smile, he could dance, he could laugh, and he could actually enjoy the sensation of simply _being_.

Lee lost count of who he danced with, who he spun around, who he switched and was switched by and twirled. But he always knew, _always_ , when Kara found him once again. Her hand was a little warmer in his, her eyes and her smile burned more deeply into his skin even when his attention wasn't focused on her. Lee would turn immediately towards her, and he'd watch her. She hadn't bothered to tie back her hair — not for a long while now — so it bobbed freely around her head as she moved, her eyes sparkling. Kara was smiling as widely as he'd ever seen her smile, and he couldn't help returning the grin while she led them through the steps of the dance, forward, back, bringing them to crash against each other and then flinging them out at arm's length. He didn't even mind that _she_ was leading, when the traditional nature of the dance called for the man to dictate the tempo. It was so _Kara_.

They ended off by revolving quickly in a giant circle, Kara between him and Sam, Racetrack and Dee and the others opposite, as everyone bounced to the sprightly tune. Lee noted in passing that he hadn't seen his father all night, nor had he seen Laura Roslin … and the mental images _that_ conjured caused him to put the topic quickly out of his mind before he could think on it further.

The evening concluded with a slow dance, in which everyone picked a partner and paired off; Lee was pleased to see that Kara gravitated immediately towards him. The "dance" was more spinning on the spot than actually dancing, but he couldn't care, not with her pressed against him, not with his arms full of Kara.

It was like Colonial Day, but _better_ , so much better, because Lee could look into her eyes and see his own feelings reflected there, without having to guess at them or worry that whatever he said might be taken the wrong way. He didn't have to guard himself, didn't have to watch what escaped his mouth. And when her arms came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, it seemed like the most natural thing imaginable to bend the rest of the way and kiss her softly, slowly, languidly. As she'd said before, it didn't matter that there were other people around, because most of the couples surrounding them were doing the precise same thing.

Kara's tongue darted across his lips, seeking entrance, and Lee's instincts told him to resist — they were in public, after all — but then her hand started stroking through his hair, finding that sensitive spot at the back of his neck, and all of a sudden he thought _What the hell_.

 _We're all a little crazy right now._

So they stood, wrapped around each other, tasting each other, as the end of one slow song faded into the beginning of the next.

Eventually Lee broke away, needing oxygen, and Kara allowed him to lead her off the platform when the current melody drew to a close.

They headed off in opposite directions then, Lee toward the bar, Kara to talk to Dee, and by the time he got back to her she was sitting contemplatively on the side of the platform, staring into space, spinning an empty plastic cup in her hands.

"I bring offerings," Lee smiled, holding out a fresh glass.

Kara's answering grin seemed distant somehow. "Just in time, I was running on bingo fuel," she murmured, tossing the empty cup away.

He followed her gaze and spotted Sam, who was face-down in the sand and unmoving beneath the seating area. "Wow, look at that. You literally drank Anders under the table," Lee observed sardonically.

"Yeah, guess you're not the only lightweight around here, huh?"

"At least I'm still conscious," he shot back good-naturedly, and Kara allowed a real smile to spread across her face before her attention once again drifted.

They drank in companionable silence for several minutes, Lee trying to work out the reasons behind Kara's sudden withdrawal. Perhaps it was just the contrast between her earlier behaviour and now, but she seemed to have turned introspective, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked the change. There was something strange and a little dangerous clouding her features. He shouldn't be suspicious or worried. He _shouldn't_. She loved him and she'd said so, multiple times before. She'd also said she would always come back to him, if it were within her power to do so. But Lee couldn't quite tamp down on the little voice in the back of his mind, the voice that whispered about Colonial Day and Baltar and the kinds of things Kara tended to do when she was scared.

What would she be scared of now?

In some ways, it didn't really matter. Lee figured he would never know precisely what had motivated her to leave him on Colonial Day, if it had simply been what he'd said or if there was some other factor at work. And he certainly didn't want to _ask_ her. Making Kara think too much about past decisions she'd made was usually a bad idea.

Or maybe he was merely being paranoid.

But —

Lee had just conjured up the courage to ask if everything was okay when Kara jumped abruptly to her feet.

"Remember that walk in the fake moonlight you offered me once?" she asked, a bright smile on her face.

"Sure," Lee said. (It was what had happened _after_ that offer that he didn't particularly like to think about.)

"Well, we've got _real_ moonlight right here. How about it, Apollo?"

He sensed she wasn't really looking for an answer, so Lee moved to stand beside her, letting her lead him off again, away from the main settlement. He tried to recall from the reports of the survey teams what was beyond the outskirts, but nothing much came to mind. Maybe Kara just wanted a nature walk. She'd come to the right place, if that was the case.

Both were quiet as they walked, Kara occasionally clasping and squeezing his hand, then releasing it. Lee took this as a good sign. Usually she made an effort to put physical distance between herself and whatever she was running from in advance of deserting, if she felt like fleeing. That had certainly been the case before, and was the reason he no longer held much of a grudge against the current president: Baltar had simply been a convenient refuge, though Lee couldn't say much for her taste in rebound fraks.

It was perhaps this that gave him the courage to ask, at length, "Did you ever think about moving down here?"

"To New Caprica?" Kara seemed surprised. "Lee, I already told you freezing my ass off in a tent twenty-four hours a day is not my idea of a good time."

"Yeah, but … _after_ that. Like tonight, seeing how much fun everybody was having. How much hope the colonists have for the future."

"Why, do _you_ want to move here?"

"You know I can't."

"Well, there's your answer, then."

Lee sighed. "It's just that there's not going to be much to do topside anymore. Fewer CAP rotations, probably a lot more training and sitting in briefings and strategizing for attacks that aren't going to come. Exactly the kind of stuff you hate, in other words."

She shrugged. "I couldn't fly down here, Lee. I'd be living in a tent, going out and helping dig ditches, doing a lot of shitty manual labour, collapsing in that tent at night and leaving in eight more frakking hours to do it all over again."

"With Sam?" he couldn't help asking.

"Yeah, Lee, probably with Sam." Kara didn't meet his eyes as she said that.

Lee was silent.

"But things are different," she persisted after several moments had passed. "I don't know how many godsdamned times I have to tell you I love you and I'm coming back before you'll believe me."

Colonial Day flashed through his mind, and he swallowed. "No, it's just —"

"Because once I _did_ run, and now I have to spend the rest of my life atoning for that? Is that what you're saying?"

"Kara, _no_." Lee stopped in the middle of the grassy field, put his hands on her shoulders. "That's not what I meant. I … I used to feel, and I guess I still feel sometimes, that I'm always going to be competing for you. Competing with Zak, with Sam, even … even the fleet itself, as stupid as that sounds. You said I was jealous of Sam, and you were right, I was, because you still thought about him, even when you were carrying Will, even when we were more together than we'd ever been before, and you wondered if I was what you really wanted. I know because I wondered the same thing."

Something unreadable, and a little dark, passed over her face. "What do you mean?"

He let her go, his hands coming together in front of him, then going to his hips, then hanging awkwardly at his sides. "I … I spent a lot of time thinking about Gianne after you told me you were pregnant. Well, we talked about that. And I kept asking myself if what I felt was love, or gratitude."

"Gratitude?" Kara asked, confusion plain now.

"Gratitude," Lee confirmed. "Because I felt like I'd been given a second chance, an opportunity to make up for all my mistakes, all the stuff I'd done wrong the first time. And I wondered if I really wanted you or if I just wanted Gianne back so I could tell her all those things, starting with how stupid I'd been to run the first time. I didn't want to use you as a replacement, or use our baby that way. It would have placed a lot of unfair expectations on all of us."

"Yeah." Her gaze was inscrutable.

"But I realized when Phelan threatened you that it _was_ you, that it always had been. I just couldn't articulate that until I'd figured it out for myself," he explained.

"But you won't believe me when _I_ say I've figured stuff out," Kara countered.

"Kara, of course I believe you."

"Then why are we even having this conversation? Sam's down here and I'm up with you and Will on the Beast and that is where I _want_ to be. I would have asked to muster out if I wasn't happy. Lee, you know that."

"I just don't want you to feel like you're with me because you think you have to be. Because we have a kid, or because I've … clung, or even because I love you and you don't feel the same way even though you've said you —"

" _Lee_." Abruptly she came forward, pressed a finger to his lips.

He looked a question at her.

" _Shut up_ ," Kara smirked.

"If you didn't want me talking, why'd you ask if we could go on a walk?" Lee asked around her finger.

"Lords." She rolled her eyes skyward. "Okay, you wanna know? You _really_ wanna know?"

"I wouldn't mind, yeah!"

To his surprise, Kara grinned more widely and removed her finger, replacing it with … her lips.

Lee felt nothing but mute shock at first, his mouth firm under hers, but part of him reflected that he really shouldn't be so amazed that they'd gone from almost-fighting one moment to embracing the next. That was generally the way things tended to work with them. Or, hell, maybe it _hadn't_ been an almost-fight. Maybe it had merely been what it seemed: a discussion.

He didn't trust himself to work it out, though, not while Kara was wrapped around him, kissing him much more firmly and insistently than she had done on the dance platform. This was not just a kiss, not just a non-verbal apology for whatever had just happened. This was a prelude to something more. This was …

Kara was the one to break the kiss that time. "Haven't you always wanted to frak outside?" she asked conversationally.

"Uh —" Lee blinked, coughed. " _That's_ what this was about?"

"Well, yeah, some of it. Here was me thinking I'd never get to ride you in the dirt since the colonies got destroyed, and now we're on New Caprica. It's the perfect opportunity." Kara leered.

"Kara, we can't —" He glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling exposed even though they were both still fully clothed. "We can't spend the whole night out here!"

"Why not?" She tilted her head to the side questioningly.

"Because — because —" Part of Lee's mind struggled to come up with logical counterarguments, while the other part urged him just as fervently to quit overthinking and simply take what she was offering. "Somebody might see us!"

"In the middle of a deserted field?"

"You know what I mean." All the time he was conscious of her hands moving from the sides of his face down to his shoulders, over his arms, across his chest. "And suppose Helo needs to reach us in the middle of the night? What if Will gets sick, or there's an emergency? Or the Cylons —"

Again she pressed her finger to his mouth. "I told Dee we were going on a walk while you were getting the drinks, so she knows exactly where to find us. Helo and Will are absolutely fine, and nobody besides Dee has ever seen this place before. They're all passed out drunk right now anyway. And as for the Cylons, I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." Her other hand went to his belt buckle, and he fought the urge to huff out a breath. "Now, didn't I order you to shut up, Commander?"

"That was an order?"

"It is now," Kara said triumphantly.

Lee was good at obeying orders.

He followed this one.

Her hands were moving again, up, up, and he would have protested the direction had she not tipped his head gently back and licked a stripe up his neck, pausing to suck at the pulse point — the _quickening_ pulse point — and at that, Lee could no longer hold back a soft moan.

He remembered, suddenly, that he had hands too, and that she wasn't restraining them, so he must be free to use them. Lee tugged her closer, flush against him, pressed his mouth firmly to hers. She tasted of alcohol and sweat and promises and _Kara_.

Lee wanted to taste her forever. He would have been perfectly content to stand there for time immemorial, his fingers in her hair, stroking softly, her chest rising and falling against his, but Kara was never idle. She took his arms in a steadying grip, gently pulling him with her as she bent to kneel on the ground, and it wasn't as cold as Lee would have expected. The chill was there, but he hardly noticed, intent as he suddenly was on peeling her jacket from her shoulders, lifting her tanks over her head.

Kara grinned with unabashed fondness — an expression he rarely saw on her — as Lee bent to her breasts. He supposed he was being pathetically predictable, though he couldn't find it in himself to care right at that moment. Her nipples, hardened from cold, fitted easily into his mouth, first one and then the other, and he swirled, sucked, bit gently, did all the things he knew she loved.

"Nothing changes," Kara teased, then gasped breathily.

"Hmm?"

"Helo's nickname for you." She winked, and Lee, preoccupied as he was, had to think for a moment before he got it.

"What? _Oh_. Shut up!"

"Uh-uh, _you're_ the one who's supposed to be shutting up." And just like that, Kara took back control, divesting him of his own clothing, piling her jacket and his on the ground before pushing him down on top of it. The cold seeped through, but Lee barely noticed; her hands were at his belt again and quickly heading south. He was fully expecting her to pull down his zipper and reach inside — in fact, he was counting on it; his uniform pants had become uncomfortably tight and he could almost _feel_ her cool grip already. It would be a welcome relief.

But as was her custom, Kara surprised him. She very studiously avoided the target area, choosing instead to tug at the fly and pull both pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. He lifted his hips to assist her, once again wanting her touch, but Kara then sat back on her haunches, hands going to her own belt.

Almost as an afterthought, she eyed him. "Touch yourself."

Lee blinked, blinked again. "What?"

"You heard me." Kara's gaze held playful defiance.

He sucked in a breath, but she kept watching him, kept waiting, so Lee drifted his hand down, and now _he_ was watching _her_ , seeing her tongue dart out to lick at her lips when he encircled himself. He'd intended only a loose grip, to tease her a little, but the first touch felt so good, so _needed_ , that he squeezed hard, pumping firmly from root to tip once. Kara grinned, and rose, and didn't stop looking.

Now Lee had a rhythm going, and the knowledge that it was Kara gazing at him, Kara unzipping her cargoes and tugging them seductively off her hips, to her thighs, and then her knees, did little to preserve his quickly-diminishing self-control. He flipped his thumb over the head to catch the moisture there, and bit his lip as Kara kicked off her pants and crouched again next to him.

For a moment Lee wanted her to take over, wanted her to finish what she had insisted he start, but he decided swiftly that the alternative was better. That alternative turned out to be her lightly plucking his hand off his length, kissing his fingers gently, and tugging him to a sitting position as she climbed over him. Her long hair brushed his chest and he had a vague notion of doing this exact thing _somewhere_ before, somehow, but he could not remember where or when, and a second later, it didn't matter anyway.

Kara did take him in hand then, but only to guide him into position at her centre. Then … they were doing it. They were actually making love under the stars.

And, Lee realized, it _was_ making love: unlike most of their encounters, this was tender, not frantic or hurried or rough, as sex between them usually was. He would have liked to have Kara like this all the time, to lavish attention on her, to worship her body, but the reality was that she seldom allowed him to do so. For whatever reason, Kara Thrace had long ago come to the conclusion that she did not deserve to be worshipped. Lee couldn't have disagreed more, but he also knew she wouldn't admit how uncomfortable it made her. Now, though, she was accepting it. Even more … she _wanted_ him to do it, because she was doing the precise same to him.

Their kisses were gentle, unhurried, the only noises around them soft grunts and moans and the occasional shift of material beneath them. Cool air nipped at their bodies, but neither noticed, so consumed were they by each other. Lee had a fleeting thought that he could have survived quite capably nude in a blizzard so long as he had Kara atop him, and then he really didn't think much anymore.

He found himself on the brink several times, but Kara didn't seem to want to end it, so Lee stilled her again and then again with his hands on her hips. She waited for him, kissed him, and when his touch drifted back up her sides and around to cup her breasts, she resumed the slow rhythm. Lee settled into it then, the frantic need farther away, nothing on his mind but how _good_ this felt.

It seemed almost to go on forever, as though that was all they had ever been doing and all they would ever do, until the universe ended or a star exploded and consumed the nameless, random ball of dirt designated as New Caprica. Lee did not mind, of course. There were so many horrible fates to which he and Kara could have succumbed — to which they had already almost succumbed — that this didn't seem like a bad way to spend the rest of one's days. This was where he belonged. Sheathed inside her, enveloped by her kisses.

But inevitably need came roaring back. Inevitably he reached the point where he knew he couldn't postpone it any longer, where warmth began to gather in the pit of his stomach, where he wanted to let go and simply thrust, _hard_ , until they both exploded.

Kara had already been to the edge herself, always pulling back just before she hit, and so now it was easy to fasten his lips around her nipple again and suck, simultaneously drifting his fingers down to where they were joined, first stroking, then rubbing … rubbing … delighting in her sharp intake of breath …

She tipped her head back, and her eyes found the thousands of stars outlined above before they slid closed, mouth falling open in an unmistakable climax. Lee barely had enough time to catch the whisper of his name, and then he could stand it no longer. He clasped her hips again, but this time to plunge as deeply inside her as possible while she fluttered around him. With an equally soft grunt he was gone too, finding blessed release. Relief.

As they descended, they held each other.

 _Each other_. Lee knew, even in bliss, that the distinction was important.

It was not just Lee holding Kara. She held him, just as firmly, just as desperately.

Finally they could do this.

Finally it could be not merely about possession, about desire, but also about love.

It didn't matter what happened after this.

They had made love, perhaps for the first time in their relationship.

Surely, that had to be worth everything.

***

He woke with a smile, remembering.

Lee didn't even grimace as his hangover shot its ice-pick stab through his temple. The sun was too bright on his face, even through closed eyelids, the ground was rocky and cold, and he was pretty sure he'd cut himself at some point during the night. But he still couldn't care. Not after last night.

He was so glad she'd convinced him to take a walk with her.

They'd acted crazy afterward, both of them, tickling and laughing and, at one memorable point, both standing and hugging themselves against the chill as they declared their love out loud, _shouted_ it, actually. Lee blushed to think of it now, but then, he wasn't as drunk as he'd been last night.

So drunk he couldn't recall exactly what he'd yelled, only that it had made Kara cackle with laughter. And then she got up to join him … and they kissed … and hardly a moment had passed before that escalated into more, into a second round.

He'd gone to sleep still half-hard inside her.

Now, he wondered if he could sell Kara on the merits of a third (fourth?) encounter before they headed back to the settlement for breakfast. (Although breakfast didn't seem like such a terrific idea given the current state of his stomach, but that could be worried about later.)

The ground beside him felt … different … as he stretched out his arm.

Different … and empty.

That realization made him startle, made his eyes fly open despite the pounding headache, even as his mind warned him in advance of what he'd find.

Kara wasn't on top of him.

She wasn't beside him, and she wasn't resting her head against his chest the way she had been.

Lee raised up on his elbows.

This was a dream.

This was a weird, frakked-up, alcohol-induced _dream_.

But the facts jostled in his mind. The field was empty. He was alone.

 _Just like on Colonial Day_ , a traitorous voice whispered. _You knew it was too good to last_.

Lee tried to push it away.

It would not be silent.

Kara had run.


	52. Chapter 52

The walk back to the settlement seemed to take days.

That was confusing. Surely it hadn't been this far last night? But he'd been drunk, not hungover, and he and Kara had been talking, and … _Kara_.

Lee felt as though there was a deepening gulf inside him, a gulf that could not be bridged by the feeble ways in which he tried to reassure himself. If she had gone to get breakfast or gone to get Will, there was no reason, _no reason_ , why she wouldn't have woken him too. When they were topside they always made an effort to share breakfast together. He wasn't sure how that particular tradition had developed, but it had, and if one of them woke before the other, it was that person's duty to rouse the sleeping partner. The only exception Lee could think of was the first few days after his return from sickbay, during which Kara took pity on him and brought him breakfast in bed because she knew how difficult it was for him to get up. That had ended with his first physical therapy session and Cottle's gruff decree that Lee was not to be coddled anymore. Kara had certainly not been guilty of doing so thereafter.

And soon enough, they'd gone back to their usual routine. He hadn't expected it would change just because they were on New Caprica. Especially not after the kind of night they had spent with each other. The truth was … he'd _wanted_ to wake up next to her. Lee loved doing that, had loved it ever since the _Cloud Nine_ incident. Kara knew it because he had told her so many times.

So he couldn't help imagining the worst.

The worst made him feel as though he was being torn in two, slowly and painfully.

They were over. Will's friendship with Sam had not been a passing obsession, but a sign of what awaited Lee. He had seen Kara staring at his scar at various points in the preceding evening. Did she still believe, despite all the ways in which he'd tried to reassure her, that she was destined to hurt him again?

He wanted to scream at her that this was a thousand times worse than being shot. That in seeking to prevent his pain, she had in fact doubled it tenfold.

When Lee thought of returning to _Pegasus_ without her, or returning to the ship with just Will, bile rose in his throat. He couldn't imagine the battlestar or the hangar deck or _anywhere_ else if she wasn't with him. Their quarters in particular already held so many of his favourite memories. The bed alone exuded her presence.

After what seemed like an eternity, the tents of the small settlement finally came into view. Lee paused for a moment at that, suddenly unsure. Did he _really_ want to try and find Kara and possibly cause her to make him feel even worse than he already did? Did he want to find out she'd run into Baltar's arms again?

Or worse, that Sam —

At that thought he almost did vomit, and had to stop and swallow several times before he could be sure enough of himself to continue.

The settlement appeared mostly deserted, though a few people — who did not look as though they had partaken of last night's festivities — were up and about. They swept the area around the entrance of their tents. Those who had not yet received generators poked at cooking fires and lit matches to start them. A few knelt on the ground, idols in hand, and prayed. A small child pushed a battered toy car back and forth in the sand. The scene exuded an overall air of quiet domesticity, and on the surface was indistinguishable from many of the neighbourhoods Lee recalled from his childhood. Replace the tents with houses and he might have been walking home from school, or the park, or one of his other younger haunts. Zak might have been with him, chattering animatedly about his latest exploits.

Lee stuffed his hands into his pockets, mentally shaking himself. His brother was the last person he needed to be thinking about now.

He continued through the rows of tents, keeping a sharp eye out for Kara or for anyone who might be able to tell him where she was. Most people still seemed to be sleeping off their hangovers — which was what Lee longed to be doing, if he were truthful with himself — but his current task seemed much more important. If his hopes for the future were about to be crushed, he'd rather find out sooner than later. Then he could start repressing … mourning … whatever. How did one recover from something like this?

As Lee drew near the area that had housed the open bar for much of the previous day and night, he saw it was now converted to a small breakfast hut, serving meals and snacks to those who couldn't cook or did not yet feel up to it. His father was leaning against the counter, a bowl of nuts in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Lee was relieved to note that for the moment, Laura Roslin appeared nowhere in sight. He didn't think he could handle _that_ on top of everything else.

He perched next to Adama, making sure to stay upwind of the food smells. "Morning, Admiral."

The other offered a small smile as he appraised his son. "You look like you had a good time last night."

Lee cleared his throat and glanced down, unable to imagine how Adama could be so cheerful. "Yeah, it was some party," he told his feet. "Listen, um, Dad, have you seen Kara at all this morning?"

The Admiral paused in the act of bringing another handful of nuts to his mouth. "Now that you mention it, not for a little while now. I know she was up at the crack of dawn to meet Helo, and they ran into Anders on their way back into the settlement." He cocked his head. "Then I think she said something about going to find a priest. Could be wrong, though."

 _A priest._

How many more times would he have the wind knocked out of him this morning? How much of that could any person reasonably be expected to take?

But at least he knew.

If Kara had gone to find a priest, and if she'd been with Sam while she did it, then it was over. They were done. A small part of him wanted to ask _why_ , wanted to wonder what he'd done now to mess up, but he supposed it didn't really matter. He didn't know of anyone who'd been able to change Kara's mind once it was made up. Questions rioted in his mind, questions about what Sam had said to her, if anything, what she'd said to him, what she planned to do with Will. Whether Kara liked it or not, her son tied her to Lee in an inescapable way. Was she just going to dump him with his father and go off and play house with Sam? Or — much worse — would she and Sam raise the infant as their own, pretending they had never been anything but a happy family and effectively cutting Lee right out? It was ironic that his original fear, being left on his own while his father and Kara bonded over the baby, was now coming true. But not in the precise way he'd worried or expected. He had to at least give the universe points for creativity on that front.

But what the hell had he _done?_ What had made Kara change her mind? Her own fear? The incident on _Cloud Nine_? Lee's bringing up Gianne again? Had she regarded that as a sign he wasn't fully committed to her?

Perhaps it didn't matter.

She was Sam's now, anyway.

He was jealous of Sam, of course. But deeper down, Lee could admit, if only to himself and only very fleetingly, that he also felt jealous of Zak. Somehow, Lee doubted courting Kara had been this difficult for his brother. From what Lee had seen of the relationship, Kara and Zak never seemed to experience as many fits and starts or arguments or doubts as he and Kara had. Of course, the subtle game of approach and retreat had been accomplished away from Lee's eyes, while Kara was a flight instructor at the Academy and Zak her student. He wondered how Zak had done it. How had his brother broken down her walls? She wouldn't have had as many back then — there could be no doubt that Zak's death had added an entirely new set of baggage to Kara's psyche — but they had surely still existed. Zak was a different person than Lee, more carefree, more self-effacing, more persistent, less apt to retreat and lick his wounds and hold grudges. He trusted. But he had not needed to bear the burden of being an older sibling, with all of the expectations and difficulties that entailed. Zak liked to say: _Believe the best of people, and they'll believe the best of you_. While Lee's life motto could probably be summarized thus: _Everyone will eventually end up screwing you over. It's just a matter of time._ Maybe that was why Zak and Kara had worked. Maybe that was why Lee and Kara had been doomed to failure from the start.

It wasn't _fair_ , dammit. And perhaps that was a childish impulse, to pound one's fists on the ground and throw a tantrum. But nothing about this situation felt even remotely equitable.

Kara was never his. He'd lost her even before he tried, even before he showed up that very first night in sickbay.

She had always, _would_ always, belong to someone else.

His father's voice drew him back to the present; Adama was looking at him with something approximating concern. "You okay?"

 _No, Dad. No, I am not okay. In fact, I'm probably about as far from okay as I've ever been. But thanks for asking._

The words rushed up to Lee's mouth, and he almost, _almost_ said them, but thought better of it at the last minute. He really didn't feel up to either a fight or a discussion right about now. His head was starting to pound again, fiercely, and someone had clearly turned up the brightness of the sun without his knowledge, because the world seemed too vivid, too painful.

The scent of eggs wafted on the breeze, and abruptly he knew he had to get out of there. It was either that or throw up on his father's shoes, which would certainly require some form of explanation. "Excuse me," Lee mumbled, and turned away quickly, no thought in his mind except to flee, to leave the food smells and the chattering crowds and Bill Adama's cheerfulness and his own thoughts far, _far_ behind.

He wasn't even sure where he was going. Maybe it didn't matter anyway. As long as it was private, as long as nobody could see him or find him or talk to him. Once, back in his Academy days, Lee had run a marathon. To this day he still wasn't sure why he'd done it — perhaps to prove how fit he supposedly was, perhaps on a dare, perhaps for some other reason — and he sure didn't plan on ever doing it again. But his attitude during the ordeal had been the same as it was now: _Don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't engage me in any kind of discussion, just let me suffer through this on my own terms_. It was the only way he'd been able to finish. And now, he sensed it was the only way he'd get through this with some semblance of his sanity intact. If indeed he had any sanity left to spare, which was doubtful.

It didn't help that every colonist he now encountered seemed to be not only awake, but _happy_. Laughing, talking, joking, calling out greetings to him, excruciatingly, disgustingly _happy_. More cooking fires had started, more generators were humming, and the sun was higher in the sky. He still hadn't seen any sign of Kara or anyone else he knew besides his father. His head pounded away, a hammering cacophony that wouldn't shut up.

Lee had almost reached the river before it became too much, too much noise, too many smells, too much of everything. He ducked behind a convenient tree and — hoping fervently that no one could see or hear — finally surrendered to the nausea that had been prodding at him all morning. He supposed that at least he didn't need to worry about his shoulder wound anymore.

 _But that doesn't really matter when you feel like shit in more ways than one._

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, crouched awkwardly, until she found him.

"Lords, you really are a lightweight. Told you so."

 _Great. Just frakking great._

Lee paused long enough to heave in one good lungful of air and then bent again, trying not to think about what was happening as the nausea asserted itself once more, and fiercely so. Maybe if he disgusted her enough, she'd go away.

Of course, he should have known better. Kara had seen him at his absolute worst, after the shooting, when he'd done things in front of her and allowed her to witness weaknesses he would never have shown anyone else — not his father, not his mother, probably not even Zak had the latter still been alive. So she wouldn't leave just for this. The question was, why was she even there in the first place?

"Hey. Here." Kara crouched, pulling him to a sitting position against her, and he realized she held Will in her one arm and a canteen in the other. "Drink."

Lee stared suspiciously at the proffered canteen. "Hair of the dog?" he coughed, forgetting momentarily to be angry.

"Nah, just water. Only Tigh and I can pull off the whole alcohol-as-hangover-remedy thing, you know." She winked. "Now drink, or you'll feel a million times worse."

Hesitantly he took the water, bringing it carefully to his lips. The sound of it sloshing around inside the canteen made his stomach flip uncomfortably, but he knew she was right. He was dehydrated, now that his body had seen fit to rid itself of the alcohol, and he would need to replenish fluids in fairly short order. He let his eyes slide shut and took a slow sip, swallowing only when he could be sure it wouldn't come right back up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Lee croaked.

"I could ask you the same question," Kara retorted. "I've been looking for you all morning, running around the settlement asking everybody where the hell you'd gone. Lucky I ran into your dad and he tipped me off, or you'd be tossing your cookies all by your lonesome."

"What do you mean you've been looking for me?" he demanded, feeling a little of the anger starting to seep back. "Dad told me — he said you'd gone to find Sam and a priest, so I thought …"

Kara seemed dumbfounded for a moment, then burst out laughing. Will, who had been contemplating both of them with a serious expression on his face, giggled too. "What, you thought I _married_ him?"

"It's not funny!" insisted Lee, though relief was coursing through him as never before. If she was laughing — smiling — like it was some kind of joke — she _couldn't_ have, right?

"Well, yeah, it is, 'cause your dad was pulling your chain if he told you that. My gods, Lee, you are way too easy."

"Why didn't you wait?" His mind was racing, struggling to put together pieces that were all too elusive through his headache. "Why did you just run off? You should have woken me!"

At that, she ducked her head, causing some of her hair to shade her face. "I thought I could get back before you woke up. You were dead to the worlds, Lee, what was I supposed to do? I only meant to go find a priest, but then I ran into Sam, and Karl brought Will back, and by the time I got back to the field you'd wandered off someplace and I had to spend the rest of the damn morning tracking you the hell down." She prodded the canteen in his hand. "Drink."

Lee couldn't manage any response to that but, "Oh."

"Yeah. Smartass. Thought you were putting one over on _me_ for once. Now I know how you feel."

He seriously doubted she understood what he'd gone through since waking alone in the grass, but decided that now was not the time to argue the point. Lee felt a touch on his hand, and risked opening his eyes to find his son reaching for him, requesting attention.

"Buh?" Will inquired.

"I'm fine, buddy, don't worry," Lee assured the boy, stroking his hair. _At least, a hell of a lot more fine than I was ten minutes ago._

"Yeah, Daddy's hungover. We'll have to teach you how to say that word, huh?" Kara leaned over to kiss the top of Will's head, and to Lee she said, "Keep drinking, sir."

He remembered now why he'd thought her as stern as his first-year Academy drill sergeant during his recovery. But Lee took another careful sip, to appease her.

They sat in silence for several more minutes, Kara's arm still around his shoulders, her fingers stroking gently up and down his side and occasionally poking the arm that held the canteen into motion. He had to admit that he did feel a bit better physically, though he didn't think food would be a wise idea for some time yet.

It was then that Lee recalled part of what she'd said before, and wondered at it. "Kara, if you weren't marrying Sam, what did you need a priest for? Prayers?" he spoke up.

Lee, though an atheist himself, knew Kara was very religious just from her last wishes on the basestar, and he'd always tried to respect that. Over the last several months she'd gradually begun letting him see more of that side of her, and she even prayed in his presence sometimes. He also knew she was teaching Will some basic lessons about the scriptures. But Kara's religion had always been a private thing to her, as evidenced by the fact that she'd kept it from him for so long, and there was never any hint that she sought spiritual guidance in human form. Had she ever talked about consulting a priest before? No, he didn't think she had.

To his surprise, she didn't meet his eyes at the question. "No. Not prayers, not exactly."

"So …?" Lee trailed off.

"Well. Okay." Kara took a breath, brushed her hair back from her face, fastened her gaze directly on him now. "Leland Joseph Adama, will you marry me?"

Despite — or perhaps because of — the way he had thus far spent his morning, Lee was certain he had misheard. Okay, so maybe she hadn't married Sam. That had been a foolish assumption on his part. But really, after hearing that she had first met with Anders and then a priest, what the hell else was he supposed to think? After Colonial Day, he didn't believe it was unreasonable to wonder about Kara's intentions sometimes, even through her reassurances. And he didn't trust easily. He'd recalled that fact just a short time ago.

Still, even given all of that, Lee was somewhat abashed to hear the word " _What?_ " fly out of his mouth in response.

"You know, marriage. Me making an honest man out of you and all that." She was trying to be flippant, Starbuck mask firmly in place, but he could see real apprehension in her eyes. "We're on a new planet, Lee, maybe for good. Maybe this is it, maybe this is the rest of our frakking lives right here. Maybe the fleet was never supposed to find Earth, or whatever, and … well, it's just better this way, if they see we're married. We've got a kid. You know?"

"Since when are you worried about what other people think of you?" he teased.

Kara shrugged, shifted Will. "I dunno. Anyway, I talked to the priest, and he said he'd do it, right here, right by the river, _today_ , if we wanted. I mean, if you want to. Only if you want to. Because —"

"Kara?" Lee interrupted.

"What?" She cleared her throat. "Drink, by the way."

He took an obliging sip from the canteen before setting it down next to them, turning, and kissing her.

Soundly.

They kissed until they were both breathing heavily, until Will squirmed between them again to attract their notice, until a breeze ruffled Kara's hair and it nearly flew into their mouths. And even as they parted, he kissed her nose, something she had done to him many times, something he'd always longed to reciprocate with, but that he never had.

"Kara?" Lee said again.

"Yeah?" She was smiling now.

"Shut up," he grinned back, and bent forward again.

They wound up on the ground this time, their son between them, pressed together in a messy embrace. Lee kissed her again, because he couldn't help it, because this time — this time, they were getting married. They were _getting married_ , and even though he wouldn't believe it until it had actually happened, until she was wearing his ring and he hers, the emotions he felt were the diametric opposites of those he'd experienced upon first waking this morning. She'd proposed, which meant that the whole thing was her idea, which made it proportionally less likely that she might back out. And Kara looked so _certain_ … so _sure_ … and more than that … afraid that he'd say no, afraid, as Lee had been, of rejection. Given all of those factors, he could believe this was real. He could believe she meant what she said. He _couldn't_ imagine how his life had possibly looked so bleak a half hour ago, but maybe all of that was finally, truly in the past.

They could be happy.

 _He_ could be happy.

He could trust. Her, himself, everything about this situation.

Kara was the one to pull back then, a knowing smirk on her face. "Just do me one favour, Commander, okay?"

 _Anything_ , Lee thought. He said, "Sure, what?"

"Don't forget to brush your teeth before the ceremony."

***

When it came to marriage, and more specifically weddings, Kara Thrace was adamant about two things. Firstly, she didn't want a big long engagement. She'd tried that once already, and it hadn't exactly worked out either for her or for her fiancé. Besides, given that she was, technically, marrying that fiancé's brother, a period of only a few hours between proposal and wedding seemed to make the most sense. It wasn't enough time for her to change her mind, or have second thoughts, or conclude that this was either the most brilliant thing she'd ever done or the stupidest. While Lee thrived on overthinking almost every decision in his life, major or minor, Kara didn't believe in second-guessing. Pick your side and leap in with both feet and don't look back. Of course, if she was to be honest with herself, she had to admit that she'd been thinking like this ever since the party wound down the previous night, examining the choice from every possible angle. But once she'd woken up next to Lee that morning, she knew. She just … _knew_ , intuitively, the way she made decisions in the air. This was the right thing. This was what had to be done. And it had to be done quickly. New planet, new start, why not? If New Caprica was really to be their future, she might as well start that new future off right for perhaps the only time ever in her life.

The second matter which she felt certain about was that she could not do the big traditional showy temple wedding. Some women went for that, had dreamed of it ever since they were little rugrats playing dress-up with dolls, but Kara had never counted herself among them. Besides the fact that New Caprica did not _have_ a big traditional showy temple, she could not think of many things she wanted to do _less_ than stuff herself into a long white wedding dress and an impossible hairdo and stand through a two-hour ceremony. Nope. Not her. Not her at all.

Kara wanted simple. She wanted _short_. Far more important was the huge party everyone would have afterwards. No point in passing up another excuse to get drunk off her ass, after all.

She would have hauled Lee off to the priest immediately after proposing, but he insisted on some concessions, some formalities, as was perhaps his custom. He wanted rings. Kara rolled her eyes, suggesting tattoos instead ("They'd match, one for you and one for me!"), but Lee winced theatrically and said he'd rather not. She teased him about that — what, wasn't he willing to take a little pain for her? — but eventually gave in, and the search for appropriate jewelry consumed much of the next two hours. Finally they found a metalsmith in the colony who was willing to barter, and Kara conceded two of her last cigars to the cause, which greatly impressed Lee. The rings themselves had been made for a couple killed in the initial Cylon attacks, and were adjusted relatively simply to fit Lee and Kara. Lee said this creeped him out until Kara pointed out that the first rule of military strategy was to consider yourself already dead, after which he felt slightly better.

The ring issue having been solved, she did drag him off to the priest then, but only to consult on what would actually be said during the ceremony. Kara had a feeling that if Lee had had his way, they _would_ have stood through some two-hour wedding during which all kinds of sappy, romantic, stupid words were thrown around. But after looking through some of the scriptures, they managed to come to an acceptable compromise: a text that was short — to suit Kara — and not too religious yet representative of their love, which was for Lee. Traditional blessings would of course be exchanged, and Kara would attend prayers at the makeshift temple in advance of the ceremony.

She found herself spending almost all of that time thinking about Zak, looking at the thick silver circle that still adorned her left thumb. Kara offered up the usual words of supplication to the gods, but her mind kept drifting, drifting right to the fact that in one more hour, another ring would join it, a ring that represented someone she had come to love just as much, but _differently_. She'd wear Lee and Zak on her fingers, and she would do so faithfully. Would the gods and the universe understand? Would Zak, if he could see her somehow?

Would he comprehend that she still loved him? Would he grasp the reasons why she was marrying his older brother? How could she communicate the fact that if Zak was alive now, none of this would ever have happened? Was she grateful that things had gone the way they did? If Zak hadn't died, she wouldn't love Lee as she did. She certainly wouldn't have Will. And Kara believed her life would have been a lesser one without those two kinds of love. But how could she argue that her life without _Zak_ was fuller?

How would he react to his nephew, if he could meet him?

Kara knew instinctively that Zak would have been a terrific uncle, just as he probably would have been a great father. He seemed to have inherited almost none of Lee's latent issues when it came to fatherhood, perhaps because Lee had made a very deliberate attempt to shield Zak from disdain of Bill Adama as they were growing up. Zak had talked often of children when he and Kara were together, a discussion she always managed to deflect by moving on to other topics, but she wondered if he would have eventually broken her down. If the natural acceptance he had shown towards all other aspects of her life, and the unconditional love and support he gave her, would have made her comfortable enough to attempt kids with him.

She suspected it probably would have.

But this was her reality. Zak was gone, and she was going to marry his brother, and she had Will, whom she didn't love any less because he was Lee's.

She asked Zak, in her last prayer, if he could find it in himself to one day forgive her.

***

By midafternoon they were walking to the river together, Will on her hip, Lee's hand pressed to the small of her back. None of this business of the man and woman not being allowed to see each other before the ceremony. It was supposedly bad luck, but Kara figured that since they were tempting the gods enough already just by getting married, a little bit more rule-breaking couldn't hurt.

The priest was already there when they arrived, along with Helo (who was going to stand up for Lee) and Cally (there to support Kara, supposedly, though the latter doubted she really needed it). The Admiral strolled up a few moments later; despite Lee having snorted and rolled his eyes when Kara mentioned Bill Adama would be there, they both knew they'd never get away with not inviting him to the actual ceremony.

She'd been nervous when she went to tell him of her plans for the afternoon. Even if Kara and Lee had a son together, whom Adama lavished with almost indecent amounts of adoration, the news that they were getting married was somewhat different. After all, she had originally been slated to become part of the family, but in an entirely dissimilar way. Would Adama see this as the logical progression that it was, or as a final betrayal of his youngest son?

Luckily, if he felt bizarre about it, he did not show it. He had smiled, _grinned_ actually, when she originally told him, and he was smiling now as he embraced her for a long moment and squeezed, hard. Kara had a fleeting thought that Lee was fortunate to have one member of his family there to see him married (even if the Admiral and his son had experienced their share of issues in the past; even if she doubted Socrata Thrace would have cared enough to witness this had she been alive) before she pushed that away and tacked on a smile, and gave Will to his grandfather to hold during the ceremony.

Her grip was steady as she took Lee's hands in both of hers. He was gazing at her, with the sort of unabashed adoration she often teased him about, and the kind of smile he rarely wore: wide, carefree, proud, a little excited, and _certain_. Lee Adama might have been prone to overthinking the decisions he made, but it was clear that he had no doubts about this. He was ready. He was sure.

And so, for once, was Kara.

Lee interlaced their fingers while the priest began the opening recitation to the Lords of Kobol, the traditional prayers to Artemis and Athena and Apollo (at that, Kara smirked; Lee blushed) to grant the couple a long and happy and fruitful marriage. Kara allowed her eyes to slide briefly shut as the words flowed soothingly around her, as she breathed them in and out. Spirituality was a comfort to her, and often had been when nothing else about her life seemed definite or stable. It was also something she didn't typically want to share with others — though she had begun her son's religious instruction — being such an intrinsic part of who she was. But it was private, perhaps because it was also so entwined with her childhood and the difficulties present there.

She focused on Lee again as the prayers finished, watched him take a breath in preparation to speak the blessing they had both chosen. He repeated it after the priest flawlessly, without error, sliding the ring gently onto Kara's finger, and then it was her turn.

"I love you," she began, her voice strong, loud enough that everyone could hear it. "You are my best friend. Today I give myself to you in marriage. I promise to encourage and inspire you, to laugh with you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle. I promise to love you in good times and in bad, when life seems easy and when it seems hard, when our love is simple, and when it is an effort. I promise to cherish you, and to always hold you in highest regard. These things I give to you today, and all the days of our life."

Behind them Will babbled happily, almost as though confirming the words, and everyone chuckled. That did not cause Kara to miss Lee's soft exhalation as she slipped his ring on.

After another short prayer, the priest pronounced them husband and wife, and almost before Kara knew it, Lee was moving towards her, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her. She kissed back, and neither could restrain their grins. It was done. They were married. And it felt … _good_. Strange, but good. _Right_.

Kara took a breath and scrutinized her fingers as she signed the marriage certificate, seeing where Lee's ring rested alongside Zak's, one to each. She hoped desperately that her heart, like her hand, could contain two loves.


	53. Chapter 53

The days were marked off numerically, beginning with the occasion of the groundbreaking ceremony and proceeding from there. It seemed a good way to handle time, despite the fact that it was quite dissimilar to the timekeeping system the fleet had previously employed. This, though, was their new start. New Caprica was meant to be a beginning, so while many still used the old ways, the novelty of an additional calendar was enough to ensure that it received its fair share of attention. Lee found he didn't much care either way. Old or new, easy or difficult, it made no difference in cataloguing what he would come to call the best year of his life to date. He didn't say that to anyone, except perhaps to Will when nobody else was listening. But it was nonetheless the truth. Kara would have laughed; Lee didn't care.

Of course, the time was not without its hardships, as more and more _Pegasus_ officers fled for the surface. Lee got a shock one day as he walked along a corridor and realized his footsteps were echoing off the bulkheads, which had never happened before. There had always been too many people, too much bustle, too much commotion, officers and staff and deckhands rushing hither and thither to a hundred disparate destinations. No longer. They'd had to make alternate childcare arrangements for Will a couple months after the groundbreaking ceremony, as not only were there not enough caregivers to staff the _Pegasus_ daycare centre, there also weren't enough children to fill it. Lacey, who was a favourite of Will's and did not otherwise have any attachments, agreed to stay on _Pegasus_ as a favour to Lee and Kara, whom she quite liked, and to their son. Adama took his grandson on every fifth day to give Lacey a break, and to Kara's surprise, Dee also offered to pitch in occasionally. Her transfer had been pushed through a day after the groundbreaking ceremony, and she gladly accepted the position of Executive Officer, performing her duties very capably. Dee often had dinner with Kara and Lee in their quarters, or they in hers, and while the situation could have been awkward, a natural friendship borne of the need to work together professionally began to develop among the three, which soothed any hurt or uncomfortable feelings that might have been simmering below the surface.

Much the same type of friendship was also being created with Sam. Will's attachment to the pyramid player and former Resistance leader facilitated this, along with Kara's desire to remain close to him. They didn't get down to New Caprica nearly as often as they would have liked, but tried to make the journey at least once a month. During those sojourns, they'd usually share lunch, and then Sam would care for Will for a couple hours while Lee and Kara spent some time exploring the outskirts of the settlement, visiting old friends, and generally enjoying one another's company.

Paradoxically, the presence of fewer people topside actually meant more work to do for those left. Standards kept up religiously during the war had been slightly relaxed, owing to the fact that there simply weren't enough personnel to maintain the same level of combat readiness, but a certain amount of alertness needed to be preserved nonetheless. The Cylons had promised to leave them alone, but who knew how long _that_ particular vow would last? Kara teased the Adamas for their paranoia, but both Admiral and Commander quietly believed that the fleet hadn't seen the last of the toasters yet. Lee therefore insisted that training drills be kept up, strategy plans for defense created, and occasional CAPs flown. Kara didn't mind that part — she hadn't been lying when she'd said she didn't want to give up flying — but her overall attitude was one of casual confidence that they were safe.

So, between their usual duties, the ones they had taken over for absent colleagues, the day-to-day business of running a battlestar, caring for a growing child, and what Lee didn't mind characterizing as a very healthy sexual appetite on both their parts, there was no shortage of tasks to keep him and Kara busy. On occasion they would fall into bed exhausted, able only to kiss each other good night before falling asleep, but in his mind, it was all worth it.

He was so deliriously content that he thought he might burst with the feeling.

Kara was his wife now. His _wife_. Sometimes Lee still couldn't believe that. Sometimes he repeated it to himself silently, just to marvel at the fact. For the first month it was all he could do not to watch every time she raised her left hand, or pointed at something, or indicated a given position on a chart. He'd see the light bouncing off her wedding ring, and he would remember that they loved each other, so much that they had made it public in the most overt manner possible. They'd been bound to each other before, through their son and through a thousand unspoken promises, but it was official now. It was official, and everybody knew.

Weddings seemed to be an ongoing theme over the first several months after the groundbreaking ceremony. There was a wave of them on New Caprica, and shortly before Will's first birthday, Helo asked Sharon to marry him. She happily accepted, and Kara and Lee were among those who attended the ceremony on _Galactica_. Lee still found that relationship a bit bizarre, but there could be no denying that the couple was very much in love. Restrictions toward Sharon also seemed to be easing up — she had been taken out of restraints, and though Marines were posted outside the room, the Cylon was as free as anyone else to move about — and Adama had told his son that he regularly shared tea with her in her brig cell, which was starting to look more like someone's living room than a jail. Both Sharon and Karl still grieved the death of their daughter, that being the sort of wound from which it was extremely difficult to recover, but they seemed to be doing better. Helo smiled a lot, laughed more, and had taken his place alongside Sam as one of Will's honourary uncles.

Meanwhile, the first birthday of William Zakary Adama was celebrated in Laura Roslin's tent down on the planet, with most of those honourary uncles and aunts in attendance. It was mainly an excuse for the adults to get together and have fun, though Will inadvertently provided some additional entertainment by saying his third word during the proceedings. Kara had been graced with "Mama" for weeks prior to the occasion, and Lee was rewarded with his first "Da" the day before, but numerous witnesses were present to see the boy exclaim, "Sam!" when the pyramid player ducked through the tent flap where the party was being held. There was a moment of stunned silence from the assemblage, followed by a round of applause and one of the biggest grins on Sam's face that Kara had ever seen. Will, confused by the attention, stared worriedly around for a long moment before burying his face in Kara's tanks and bursting into loud tears.

It wasn't exactly the picture-perfect moment Lee had imagined, but Will was his mother's son, and he perked up as soon as he saw that he had a birthday cake to destroy. Laura looked a little chagrined when the writing on the cake was smeared from neat blue lines to unrecognizable globs on young fingers, but she soon joined the rest of the guests in chuckling and cheering Will on. Once the boy was done, Lee gave the crowd more amusement by attempting to wipe his son's face and hands, which led to a brief chase around the tent and uproarious laughter. Predictably, Kara was one of those who laughed the hardest.

"I don't understand it," Lee muttered as he watched Will pull up to standing using Kara's knees, leaving greasy icing smears on her cargoes. "The kid can't walk yet and he's faster than me. How does that happen?"

Kara shrugged. "Most people are faster than you, Lee," she grinned mischievously, and the crowd laughed even louder.

He rolled his eyes. There was no point in challenging the comment; she knew as well as he did that his perfectionist streak forced him to keep up the exact same exercise regime he'd followed as a pilot, and that he was actually in better shape than ever. Yet somehow, Will, whose main forms of transportation these days involved crawling and cruising around hanging onto tables and chairs, could outmaneuver his father. It was rather unsettling.

Later, Lee stood next to Kara outside the tent, watching through the flap as Bill Adama tried valiantly to coax his namesake into saying "Grandpa." So far the lesson had not met with all that much success, since Will seemed more interested in playing with the buttons on his grandfather's uniform than he did in expanding his vocabulary.

"He hasn't even really said 'Daddy' yet," Lee reminded the Admiral.

"Zak said 'Grandpa' before his first birthday," Bill asserted, and turned unrepentantly back to the boy. He was smiling, though, and there was a carefree air about him that had seldom been present in the days of the war.

Lee chuckled, taking a sip of his drink as he faced Kara again. She was gazing towards the other tents in the settlement, a faraway look in her eyes. He wished he could tell what she was thinking.

"So … one year, huh?" said Lee, just to break the silence.

"One year," Kara agreed, and smiled softly.

He took a breath, allowing his mind to drift back to that day, the terror that had risen in his gut as he heard Helo's voice on the line, telling him to come to sickbay; Kara's screams and curses; how beautiful she looked when she slept despite the lines of discomfort on her face; their discussion of names and how revulsion had twisted within Lee at the idea that a child of his might bear his father's name; the way he'd acquiesced because he knew it would make Kara happy; how grateful he now was that he had given in; tiny Will, born amidst more cries of pain and threats levied against Lee's anatomy; fear like no other as Lee was invited to hold his new son for the first time. The baby had been so small, so fragile, so _breakable_ , that he couldn't believe he ought to be trusted with him. He remembered the weight in his arms, and seeing a miniscule hand waving free of the blanket, each finger tipped with a barely-visible nail, and his astonished realization: _I made this_. Kara had done the actual work, had grown and nurtured the new life inside of her, but this child was half of him.

Now, with Will a year old and looking more like a little person than a baby, Lee could see both himself and Kara everywhere in the child's countenance. Will's eyes hadn't changed, and were the same deep blue shared by both Lee and Bill. His hair was the same texture as Kara's, and their smiles were identical. But the hair colour was closer to what Zak's had been when he was younger, and the look Will wore when he was concentrating on something — tongue poking out, lips pursed — reminded Lee of the expression he himself got when he was trying to work out a particularly difficult problem. The boy had Lee's long fingers, but Kara's feet. And Lee couldn't help wondering, occasionally, how the genes would be shuffled and recombined again if he and Kara were to have another child.

Lee had always looked more like his mother. People said so all the time. The exception was his eyes, which were his father's all the way, but on the whole he was glad he'd inherited more of Mom's looks. It was the less-offensive option out of two people he had wished often were not his parents. Zak, meanwhile, could have passed for Dad's _twin_ , at least when the elder Adama had been young. His eyes, again, were the only difference. Here Caroline's genetics had exerted their influence, and when Zak had looked at you, it was with Mom's deep brown.

"Do you regret anything?" Kara's voice jarred him out of his daydreams. She looked surprised that she had actually said that aloud.

Lee thought of his initial reaction to her pregnancy, the overwhelming desire to run, to get away, to unconsciously repeat all the mistakes he'd made with Gianne. He thought of how he'd treated Kara in the months following, his distance, his refusal to acknowledge that he was going to be a father. He recalled that it had taken almost a literal knock on the head before he saw sense.

He glanced back to Will, now playing peek-a-boo with Laura Roslin. He thought of what his life might be if this child wasn't a part of it. He imagined another baby, perhaps a boy like his son, a little brother for Will, or perhaps a daughter. More and more since arriving on New Caprica, Lee was realizing that was something he wanted. He just didn't know how to bring it up with Kara.

"I regret some stuff that I did," Lee said carefully. "But the rest of it … no, I can't."

They paused, sipped their drinks again.

"Do _you_ have regrets?" he asked after a beat.

Kara was looking at Will now too. "Who doesn't?" she replied, and chuckled.

"Hey, come on, I gave you a fair answer. I want one too."

Her face split into a small smile as she watched her son. "I can't picture my life without him in it," Kara finally said, slowly. "Maybe that's answer enough."

Lee smiled too, wrapped an arm around her, kissed her, without caring who was watching, or what they might think.

***

On the ninety-second day after the groundbreaking ceremony, Kara announced that she wanted — no, _needed_ — to shoot something.

Lee laughed it off at first, but she pestered him about it so much during their shared duty in CIC that he ended up calling his father and asking Adama if he could keep Will for an extra couple hours. Then, after their shifts were over, he rolled Kara out from under her bird on the hangar deck and took her to the firing range.

As they emptied clip after clip into the targets, husband and wife talked. Lee wanted to know whether she really missed the war all that much, and Kara paused and cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment, in a gesture he found himself unexpectedly adoring. He was always discovering these little things, and if he'd been given three lifetimes he doubted he'd be able to catalogue them all. "It's not the war I miss," she said finally, running her tongue over her lips. "Hell, it's not even the toasters or the strategy. It's … the _rush_."

"The rush?"

"Yeah, you know … like when you've come in after a good mission, nobody's died, nobody's Viper was even damaged much, and you feel yourself hitting the landing bay and you pop your canopy and grin at whoever's across from you, and you cuss out the deck crew and jump down." Her smile was almost shy now. "You think you could fly without a plane."

"You can't get the rush now?" he asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"It's not the same." Kara chuckled. "For starters, you're not up there with me."

"I'm in your ear."

"Ooh, kinky," she teased. "Nah, you know what I mean. Even when we were screwing up everything else, we still flew well together."

Lee shuddered, just a little. "I don't think we _should_ go up together. Not anymore."

"Why not?" Kara looked momentarily wounded, before her Starbuck mask clamped into place.

"Well, maybe _now_ it would be okay," he allowed. "But if the Cylons come back … I don't know, I just keep thinking about what would happen to Will if we both got blown up on the same CAP."

"Lee, the Cylons aren't coming back."

"How do you know that?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. They said they'd leave us alone, right?"

"Cylons say a lot of things," Lee replied darkly.

"I still think you're freaking out for nothing."

"Yeah, you've made that quite clear."

Kara didn't speak for a full minute, resolutely firing bullets into the target. Lee wasn't surprised to see, when they counted up shots, that she'd beaten him again. Kat might have stolen the crown from her on _Galactica_ , but when it came to _Pegasus_ , Starbuck did not have a match. Everyone knew that.

"So if the Cylons come back, we won't fly together again?" she said, and this time she sounded resigned.

"I don't think it would be a good idea, no."

"Damn," Kara muttered, but she didn't challenge him on it, and he felt a wave of gratitude. These days, they seemed to have reached a level of understanding beyond any they'd experienced before.

Still, he felt badly, and when the next round was exhausted (Kara won, again), Lee stripped off his headset and moved to lock the hatch.

She arched an eyebrow. "What the hell are you doing?"

He grinned as he pressed her up against the opposite wall, tossing her headset to the deck and molding his lips firmly to hers. Kara kissed back instantly, her tongue poking into his mouth while she drifted her arms up and down his back. His jacket was half-off and his pants unbuttoned before either partner remembered she'd asked a question.

"Giving you an adrenaline rush," Lee smirked, and then they both shut up.

***

On the one hundred and fifty-second day after the groundbreaking ceremony, Kara paid an unscheduled visit to sickbay.

Those enlisted were still required to keep up with their medical examinations — that was one standard that had not been changed or relaxed despite the fact that they were no longer on a war footing — but she had of course been putting hers off, reluctant to waste time having some technician tell her what she already knew: that she was fine, and her flight status certificate could be summarily renewed. Besides, Cottle had moved down to the surface about three months previous, and though she would never have admitted it to anyone, Kara felt most comfortable with him as her doctor. Not only did he know all her issues without her having to explain them, he also never asked awkward questions about her history, or her childhood, or any one of a number of touchy topics. She did not relish having to be confronted with some stranger in the _Pegasus_ sickbay.

Nevertheless, it came to a point where she didn't have a choice.

Kara started to feel unwell during a routine CIC shift, though she didn't say anything because she knew how short they were on personnel. It started as just a faint cramping, which she was easily able to ignore, but when the nausea kicked in, carrying on with life as usual became decidedly more difficult. She begged off routine maintenance, and when Lee and Will returned to their quarters, they found her flat on her back in bed with a cloth over her eyes.

"It's just a godsdamned headache," she snapped at Lee, who'd immediately gone into mother hen mode. "Nothing to freak out over."

He offered her some pills, which was cute, but Kara immediately declined. No sense wasting what were probably some of the last analgesics left in the universe, especially when she wasn't even sure they'd stay down long enough to do any good. Dinner also didn't happen that night, and while she caught bits and snatches of rest throughout the evening, most of her time was devoted to listening to Will running around in the next room, under Lee's supervision, and praying that the stabbing cramps in her abdomen would decide to go away. When Lee slid into bed beside her later that night, she pretended to be asleep.

The middle of the night found Kara in the head, staring at the medicine cabinet and seriously contemplating those pills. She was now fairly certain that all this was just her period, although she'd never experienced such symptoms prior to it starting before. She'd gotten bad cramps as a teenager, which she had quickly learned to hide, but that tapered off when she entered her twenties. With Will's birth, the cramps had stopped completely. Against her better judgment, Kara swallowed a pill, only to be proven right when the nausea returned with a vengeance and she puked it up a half hour later.

When morning arrived with little improvement, Lee insisted they go to sickbay. The bastard made it an order when she refused, and all but frog-marched her down there. Kara would've decked him if she hadn't been so sick. Pulling rank in a situation like this was _so_ frakking low.

Sickbay, meanwhile, was every indignity she'd figured it would be. They made her change into one of those stupid yellow gowns and endure all sorts of humiliating examinations, when what she really wanted to do was just curl up in bed and wait it the frak out, like how she handled every other incidence of pain in her life. At least they had the grace to hook her up to an IV line for morpha and anti-nausea meds, which helped to ease some of her discomfort. But other than that, she would just as soon not have been there. Especially not with Lee in his current state, hovering, pale and drawn and worried as he clutched her hand like a lifeline.

A nurse had just bustled away with yet another blood sample — felt like the fifth or sixth Kara had given since her arrival — when a doctor pushed through the privacy curtain. She wasn't sure if it was just _a_ doctor or _the_ doctor, the one who had the power to tell her what the hell was wrong, pump her up with meds and let her out of here. She certainly hadn't bothered to learn his name.

"Captain Thrace?" Dr. Nameless began tentatively, and jostling among all the morpha was a perverse sense of pleasure that her reputation had preceded her.

"Yeah, what the frak is going on?" Gods, her voice didn't sound like _hers_. It sounded all foggy and scratchy like she'd been screaming all night.

"We aren't quite sure yet, and we won't be able to say with one hundred percent certainty until your bloodwork comes back. That should take just a few moments." He consulted the file folder he was carrying. "However, your symptoms do match with several possibilities, although as I said, we aren't exactly —"

"Cut the shit," Lee interrupted sharply. Kara could have kissed him.

Dr. Nameless looked a little astonished. "Er … right. Well, we ruled out appendicitis fairly early on due to the pain's localization in your left side, so we now believe the problem to be gynecological in nature." He paused for a moment, apparently drawing up courage to continue. "Unfortunately, some of your symptoms point strongly to either a miscarriage in progress or a tubal pregnancy, and if it's the latter, we will need to act quickly if we're to have any chance of saving your fallopian tube. Once pregnancy is ruled out, if it's ruled out, we can examine other possibilities, but for now … it looks as though that's what we may be facing."

 _We. Everything's a "we" with these people._

Kara couldn't look at Lee.

She felt like her head was going to blow up and she just wanted _out_.

Her husband's grip on her hand had tightened almost to bruising.

"Miscarriage?" Lee said once the doc had left the cubicle. His voice had a weird quivery quality to it that she didn't like, not at all. "Kara, you — you didn't say anything about —"

" _Don't_ ," she interrupted, her face turned to the cool side of the pillow. Kara shut her eyes, pretended that her hand which was gripping his did not exist, was not a part of her body.

"But — did you know you might be —"

"I said, _drop it_." Her tone brooked no argument.

But Kara had been married to Lee for five months, and was therefore not so much of an automaton that she could dismiss the empathy she felt for him. She tried to tamp down on it, tried to insist to herself that it didn't matter, and was mostly successful. But a part of her knew that if this was in fact a miscarriage (or whatever that other thing Dr. Nameless had talked about) and she'd been pregnant, even unknowingly, the loss of a potential child would upset Lee. A lot. He hadn't said anything to her about it lately, but she knew he wanted another baby. She found that strange in some ways, given how he had reacted during her pregnancy with Will, but their circumstances had changed. Cynical though Lee might have been about the potential return of the Cylons, he was enjoying the end of the war as much as anyone else. That wasn't hard to see. And even during her first pregnancy, he had wanted a girl. He still wanted one, if their discussion several months ago had been any indication.

She had to offer him _something_. Something more than the brush-off she longed to give, the brush-off that would end in her falling asleep under the influence of the morpha and the questions and recriminations hanging in the air between them.

"Look," Kara finally mumbled, still unable to face him. "I don't even know, all right? If I am, it wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't know. I didn't think it could."

"You were sick," Lee pointed out at length.

"Yeah, and it only started last night! The last time I puked was — well —" She stopped suddenly, aware that she was about to confess being affected to that extent by the _Cloud Nine_ incident. Morpha always loosened her tongue. "Well, it was a long time ago, anyway. Too long for me to be frakking _pregnant_. And I haven't skipped any months since I started again after Will. I don't know what the hell else to say."

"Okay. All right."

She risked a glance to her right and saw that he'd scrubbed a hand slowly over his face. Suddenly Lee looked very tired.

"I'd tell you, godsdammit," Kara insisted, for good measure. "I'd tell you and we'd figure out what to do. Like we did last time."

Now he was the one to avert his gaze. "I'm sorry, I just … you know what I think. What I want. But I shouldn't want it if you don't, and I'm sorry."

She digested that for a moment. "Why?"

"Well, because I don't want to force you into anything you don't feel —"

"No, I mean why do you want it?" Kara hoped she looked curious enough for him to give her an honest answer. She _was_ curious.

"I guess …" He trailed off, thinking. "Maybe because I'm not afraid of it anymore. I know from Will that I can raise a kid. I might not be the best father, but I think I'm better than mine, and that's all that ever mattered to me anyway. I mean, besides actually taking care of a kid. I want … I want the stuff that Dad never got, because he was always away, and the stuff I didn't get the first time because I was being an idiot. I want to enjoy your pregnancy instead of being afraid of it. I want to be excited when the baby's born instead of scared out of my mind. You know?"

Kara sighed. "Lee, we can't have another kid just because you're trying to make up for shit that happened before."

"I'm not, though," he insisted. "Or … that's not all of it. I want to give Will a little brother or sister. I want him to have what I had growing up, the _good_ parts. And if this really is our future, if this is really where we're going to stay for the rest of our lives, then I don't think we can use the whole 'something better will come along' excuse." Lee paused. "Maybe I'm not making sense. Sorry."

Now his eyes were entirely _too_ honest, too open, and she had to look away again. She thought of being pregnant now, of losing something she hadn't even known she was carrying, and though Kara knew the odds against that, it still brought a clench to her throat. She couldn't figure out whether that was regret, nervousness … or relief.

Abruptly Dr. Nameless bustled back through the curtain. Kara turned to him, glad for the distraction. "So?" she said brusquely.

"I have good news," the doctor said, and he did indeed look relieved. "Well, relatively speaking. There are no traces of pregnancy hormones in your bloodstream, so I suspect it's highly likely that you're suffering from a ruptured ovarian cyst. We'll do some further testing to confirm that, and probably keep you here overnight just to be safe and manage your pain, but after that, you should be back on your feet soon enough."

 _I think there may be a cyst on one of your ovaries._

Kara blinked; where had she heard that before? Then she remembered. The Farm. Caprica. Simon the doctor who pretended not to be a Cylon but really was, before going on to lecture her about her reproductive choices. And then he'd taken her ovary …

"Didn't want the damaged goods, huh?" she muttered under her breath.

"What?" said both Lee and the doctor at the same time.

"Nothing," Kara answered quickly; she really didn't feel like going into that whole story with either of them. "Great, um … that _is_ good news."

Dr. Nameless grinned, adjusted the morpha drip, and hurried out, but Lee continued to look at her curiously.

"Kara, are you okay?" he asked at length.

"Fine." This time she relished the slow, sleepy burn of the painkillers flooding her system.

Lee sighed softly, and continued to massage her fingers long after drowsiness had claimed her.


	54. Chapter 54

On the one hundred and fifty-third day after the groundbreaking ceremony, Kara was released from sickbay, and on the one hundred and fifty-sixth day, she was back to full duty, albeit with strict orders not to overexert herself. Lee all but laughed in the doctor's face when the latter handed down that requirement, but privately he promised himself he would enforce it as much as he reasonably could. Doing so would be extremely delicate work, as Kara seemed to have turned inward since landing herself in sickbay. With the doctors, the other officers, the rest of the crew, and even Will, she was her usual boisterous self, but when she was alone with Lee, it almost appeared as though part of her just shut down. It was the first time this had happened since their marriage, and it frightened him more than he cared to admit.

Kara, for her part, felt lost in her own thoughts, which was almost equally scary to her. She'd never been a thinker, and whenever she _did_ think, things invariably tended to go wrong. But the topics she was contemplating weren't, for once, the sorts of matters you could dive into without looking. They were more Lee's department — the problem was that he had for all intents and purposes already made his decisions. He knew exactly what he wanted. She envied him that clarity of mind and purpose.

Yet she also understood that he wouldn't push unless she was in full agreement. Part of that wasn't just semantic: ultimately Kara held the power balance in this particular choice, and they both knew it. But she could not, _would not_ , dismiss his desires as unimportant the way she once might have. They'd grown too close, were too intertwined, for that to be an option.

For the first several nights after her return from sickbay, she found herself wandering their quarters at night, unable to relax, picking objects and photos up, putting them back down again. Almost invariably she would end up at Will's bedside, watching the boy sleep. He'd purse his lips and frown and pout and grin in the midst of a dream, and Kara would think about the changes he had brought to her, good and bad. She'd been petrified of him at first, but now, if someone told her that throwing herself out an airlock was the only way to save her son's life, she would have immediately, instantly complied. Kara had discovered within herself an incredible capacity for love and protectiveness, and while it was still important that she maintain her image — an image she'd worked hard for and would continue to cultivate — she was amazed that this other side existed, this side that her own mother, among others, had constantly told her was beyond her capability. She was a cancer. She destroyed everything and everyone she loved eventually. But Will was proof that she could create something, _someone_ , positive. Create him and nurture him and care for him deeply, fiercely. And all of that without sacrificing the essential core of who she was, the part of her that was Starbuck.

He loved her unconditionally. He didn't care about her past. All he saw when he looked at her was his mother, the woman who fed him and bathed him and kissed him goodnight and hummed nonsense melodies and let him sit on her lap in a Viper cockpit. Lee was just as capable of all of these things, and Will adored him too. But Kara was "Mama." _She_ was the only person allowed to put him to bed. When she said something, she really meant business (Lee was more likely to buckle under the pressure of toddler pleas). She was also, almost invariably, the adult to whom Will ran first when he was hurt or sick or craving comfort. But Kara had a sense of humour, too, which he liked. While Lee tried as hard as he could to instill proper manners in their son, Kara was usually the one to let these slide. She backed Lee up as much as she could — they had made a decision fairly early on to always support one another's disciplinary decisions even if they didn't personally agree — but areas in which she herself didn't always follow proper decorum were tougher to take seriously. If Will belched after finishing the evening meal, she was more likely to stifle a snicker than she was to use Lee's "Buddy, we always say 'Excuse me', remember?" line. Lee also made an effort to correct foul language when it was uttered, although both he and Kara had acknowledged a long time ago that this was probably a losing battle. Real disciplinary issues were always treated properly, but she wished sometimes that Lee didn't sweat the small stuff so much.

Kara wondered if she could do the whole kid thing again, but do it _willingly_ this time. Will had been a pure accident, a convergence of unique circumstances. Before he was conceived, she would never have entertained the idea of having kids, not for even a minute. It was a testament to how much her son had changed her that she could contemplate Lee's wishes without panic. Every word her mother had ever said to her could be countered by the child in front of her. Not erased, not forgiven, not forgotten, but countered. And, just as she had once argued against getting involved with Lee because she'd destroyed Zak, one part of her mind insisted that her son was evidence that she could have another child, because she _hadn't_ destroyed Will.

 _Yet_ , the traitorous voice of her mother whispered. _You haven't destroyed him yet. But suppose you had a daughter next? What would you do to a girl? She would be too much like you. And you would be too much like me._

Will snuffled, stretched a little, drew in a breath. Kara breathed with him, reaching out her hand automatically to rub his back until he settled.

Was she willing to take the risk? Was she ready? Would she ever _be_ ready? Strictly speaking, Kara didn't dither. Decisions were considered for only a short period of time before being either accepted or rejected. The choice to marry Lee, perhaps one of the most life-changing ideas she had ever contemplated, was made in less than twenty-four hours, and she hadn't looked back. But since she'd wound up in sickbay, the kid thing had been on her mind. Lee had unwittingly reinforced the idea by pointing out that one of her major conditions for having another child, stability, was now achieved with the discovery of and settlement on New Caprica. It wasn't Earth, but it was close. And the idea of Earth was probably dead anyway, at least with Gaius Baltar running the show.

What if the Cylons _did_ come back … but not for five years? She and Lee would have had a window of opportunity, only to see it slam shut. If there were toasters in the skies again, that was where Kara belonged too. She didn't want to find herself grounded because she was knocked up when the war resumed. She wanted to be out there, doing her godsdamned job. Right now the tasks she performed in her Viper were almost laughable. Endless training runs, day after day of staring out at blackness dotted with stars, trying and failing to count all those stars. Kara loved the adrenaline rush of flying, and though it pained her to admit it, that rush had been largely absent since the end of the war. There was a reason she'd demanded to use the firing range with Lee more and more lately. Shooting at stationary targets resembled combat flying the way a walk across one's bedroom resembled running a marathon, but it was _something_ , anyway. It was loud noise and it was the thrill of hitting the target and knowing she'd kept her edge, such as it was. She still loved being up in the air. But without an enemy to fight, flying wasn't quite the same. Kara would never have guessed this would be the case when the fleet first came upon New Caprica, but five months of running combat air patrols without any enemies appearing had shown her otherwise.

So maybe this was the appropriate time. Pop out another kid now to be ready for when the toasters came to call, as Lee and his father were so convinced they would.

Of course, that particular plan was not without its flaws. Chief among them was that Kara doubted the Cylons would adhere to anyone's personal schedule. She could get pregnant in a month and the toasters might turn up in seven when she was roughly the size of the _Pegasus_ itself. Or they'd come when she was five months along and even further from returning to the air. Unpredictable. Everything was so — frakking — _unpredictable_. And why the hell was she thinking like Lee now, anyway? He was sure the toasters _were_ coming back. But what if they didn't? What if this really was the rest of their lives, right here?

Would it make a difference if she chose the timing for another kid? Or if she left it up to chance?

"Kara? Hey, what are you doing up?"

She jumped, momentarily thinking Will had spoken. But no: it was Lee, pausing in the doorway of their son's room, his hair adorably ruffled by sleep.

"Nothing." Kara replied in an undertone, so as not to wake their son. "Just thinking."

He arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything until they were back in their bedroom and climbing into bed. "Must be noisy," he remarked finally, curling his body around hers.

"Noisy?"

"Yeah. You know, with one little thought rattling around up there." Lee winked, and received a slug on the arm in return.

"Shut up," she snapped, but the teasing had had its desired effect. Kara was smiling now, smiling as she felt his hands slide around her midsection and probe gently higher. She retaliated by grinding back against him, pressing herself into a spot that made his breathing trip. Lee sighed with pleasure, and so did she. His hand holding onto her, tightly, steadfastly, her fingers covering his and threaded together, the soft kisses he was pressing to the back of her neck … yes, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Kara took a breath.

"Lee?" she began.

But at his answering "Mmm?" the words got stuck in her throat, glued themselves to the roof of her mouth. She just couldn't — quite — say them, not yet. And when you couldn't even say something out loud, you weren't ready for it. She knew that.

So she settled for other words, words that had taken her an almost equally long time to become comfortable with saying.

"Love you," Kara whispered.

Even without looking, she could _feel_ her husband's smile.

"Love you too."

***

On the one hundred and seventy-first day after the groundbreaking ceremony, Lee and Kara went to the firing range again. During one particular round, she flipped off her headset's microphone, watched him shoot, and spoke when neither of them could hear.

"Lee, I'm going to have my implant removed."

That wasn't so scary.

But then, he couldn't hear her.

He tossed the empty clip to the ground, removed his goggles, and went to look at the targeting paper.

Kara flicked her mic back on.

They went two more rounds before she reached a compromise with herself.

"Lee?" she said as they reloaded.

"Yeah?" Her husband was distracted, probably not even listening much.

Good.

"I've decided I'm going to have my implant removed … in two weeks."

Kara knew he'd heard by the smile spreading across his face. No, it wasn't even a smile. It was a _grin_.

"Okay," Lee said.

Somehow, it wasn't as scary now.

***

On the one hundred and eighty-sixth day after the groundbreaking ceremony, Kara visited sickbay again. This time, though, she had an appointment, and walked out again fifteen minutes later. Mission accomplished. Her arm was a little sore, but she felt … lighter. No more thinking. No more agonizing. Now, whatever happened would simply _happen_. And yet, she was still in control. _She_ had decided when to remove the implant. No one else could have made that choice for her.

Dr. Nameless (whom she had found out was actually called Dr. Reinholm) gave her a complete examination at the same time. Part of that was to ensure she had fully recovered from the cyst, but part of it was to see if she was in the best health she could be, reproductively-speaking. It seemed odd to Kara to care that much about those particular organs, though she supposed she had a reason to now. They'd always just been _there_ , along for the ride, inconveniencing her once a month at most. They were half responsible for her son, as well as that stupid cyst. But otherwise, she didn't pay a whole lot of attention to them.

This time, Kara had no choice but to discuss her missing ovary with the doctor, who noticed it during the course of the examination. She thought momentarily about lying, and saying she'd been born with only one, but realized just as quickly that such a fact would have been noted in her medical file from the start, so it was unlikely to fool Dr. Reinholm. She gritted her teeth and told the truth, being as sparse with the actual details as she could, and shutting down additional discussion as quickly as possible.

"You won't tell Lee about this, right?" Kara snapped, layering her tone with an implicit threat.

Dr. Reinholm glanced up impassively. "Doctor-patient confidentiality rules forbid me, except in cases where your flight status would be in jeopardy," he replied. "However, if you want my opinion —"

"I didn't ask for any opinions," she interrupted.

"— I'd suggest that you find a way to level with him about it at some point. Commander Adama is your husband, and I know he cares for you a lot."

"Yeah, well, unless he can frakking fly to Caprica and get it for me so you can put it back in, I don't think so."

The doctor made no further comment. "Happily, the single ovary shouldn't have any effect on your ability to conceive. Human ovaries will most often alternate, one releasing an egg one month and the other the next, but your remaining one will simply pick up the slack once the hormones from the implant have left your system. That could take anywhere from a couple of weeks to a couple of months, depending on your body, and you probably won't be successful in getting pregnant until then."

"Yeah, whatever," barked Kara, hopping down from the examination table. "Can I go now?"

"Of course," Dr. Reinholm replied, though she sensed he was holding back a sigh. "Just don't forget what I told you with regards to caring for the site —"

"Sterilize with rubbing alcohol once a day for a week, keep clean and dry until it heals," Kara recited, and snatched the packages he'd given her from the table. "Sure. Got it. Look, I'll catch you later."

And she got out of there, as quickly as she could.

Kara didn't say a word to Lee, not while they were still on duty and she could cover up the area where her implant had been with her uniform jacket. He hadn't known the exact day she was getting it out, only that it would happen sometime in the near future, and she planned to surprise him that night. She didn't much care when he found out, but she knew _he_ would be pleased with the method she'd chosen, so it was worth it. The guy had been under so much stress lately with the dwindling _Pegasus_ crew and the extra responsibilities involved there. He needed something to make him happy.

When Will had been put to bed, Kara marched into the living area where Lee was mulling over paperwork, and ran a hand through his hair to get his attention.

"You, me, shower, five minutes," she said when he looked up with a puzzled expression. "Clothing definitely optional. C'mon."

Lee sighed. "Kara, I'd love to, but I have to process these discharge requests by tomorrow … maybe if you wait up in bed for me?"

"Nah, I don't think so." Kara gathered up the offending papers, stacking them in a neat pile amid his protests. "This is a limited-time offer, stud. Take it or leave it." She smirked. "'Sides, your papers are all messed up now. You can spend all night putting them back in order, or you can spend all night with me. Your choice."

And she walked off toward the head, knowing without even needing to turn and look that he was getting up to follow her.

They'd been standing under the shower spray for a while, just kissing and enjoying the feel of being pressed together, when Lee's hand finally drifted over the waterproof bandage she'd affixed to her arm. "Kara, what — what is this, did you hurt yourself?"

"Nope." She smiled, and it came to her face easily, without her needing to work for it. "Got my implant taken out, like I said I would."

He didn't answer, not verbally, anyway. His response was a series of kisses from which they both pulled back gasping and grinning.

"Doc says the hormones'll still be there for a little while, but —"

Lee cut her off, slipping a hand down her abdomen, finding a spot that made her moan.

"Practice makes perfect," he whispered.

***

On the two hundred and third day after the groundbreaking ceremony, it was Kara and Lee's sixth-month wedding anniversary.

Lee hadn't expected her to remember something like that. _He_ remembered, but only because anniversaries were important to him, even the small ones, even the ones he'd never mention to others. Six months, to him, wasn't a small one. It wasn't necessarily _big_ either, not like the first anniversary would be, but it nonetheless constituted proof that they had survived, without killing each other, for half a year. When you were talking Kara Thrace, that had to count as some kind of accomplishment.

Not only were they surviving, Lee considered them to be thriving. Oh, they still had the occasional fight, but they'd become almost as skilled at making up and forgiving as they had at trading verbal barbs. It wasn't perfect; there were still some things about her that bothered him. Like her compulsive messiness, which was as bad as his compulsive neatness. They clashed constantly over cleaning. She was less serious about paperwork than he would have preferred. He was less willing to set aside his mountains of work in order to have some fun than she would have preferred. But that was just Kara, and he was just Lee, and it wasn't like they hadn't known about these issues before getting married. Overall, he thought they'd made the transition very smoothly, considering how it _could_ have gone.

More important, they were learning to balance each other's needs. He learned when not to ask questions, and what he could safely push her on (and how _far_ she could be safely pushed). She learned to tolerate his occasional rants about his father. He learned to tolerate her complete silences about her own parents. It was tricky, but not nearly as tricky as things had once been between them.

But one of the most enjoyable parts of their relationship, at least for Lee, was happening now. As far as he was concerned, sex with Kara had always been amazing, and something he sometimes felt he couldn't get enough of, but this was … different. _More._ This was sex with intent, sex taking into account the purpose for which the act existed. They weren't just making love to get off, or release adrenaline, or build it up. They were doing it because they wanted another child. At first Lee had been uncertain whether there really was a _they_ in this equation, or whether Kara was just trying to give him what he wanted, but he then reminded himself that Kara seldom did anything _she_ didn't want to do. She could get him into bed without the incentive of removing her implant, and they both knew it. But the fact that she had gone to the trouble of actually reporting to sickbay and getting it done showed that she was serious, that she was willing.

Still, he'd asked her about it, just to be safe.

Kara had shot him what could best be described as a withering glance. "Lee, you really believe I did all that thinking after the cyst burst and decided to do this just because it was what _you_ wanted?"

"You were thinking?"

She'd glared. " _Yes_. As weird to you as that may seem, I was thinking. And I figured out pretty quickly that we shouldn't frakking wait around. We're probably never gonna find Earth, now that Baltar's in charge, so this is that bright shiny future you're always talking about. And if it is, why wait?"

He couldn't argue with that logic.

Nonetheless, Lee didn't think she'd recall that they had now been married six months. That was his domain, not hers. And it was probably why, looking back, Kara managed to surprise him so thoroughly.

He was making his way back to CIC, a stack of file folders under one arm and recent maintenance shifts on his mind. Most of the deck crew had fled for Caprica, leaving the majority of the Vipers in proverbial mothballs, and it was getting difficult to justify the ongoing rotations in which officers were required to take part. Kara still went down to the hangar deck on a regular basis, because nobody was going to ground _her_ bird and live to tell the tale unless she conceived, and that hadn't happened yet. But the other pilots were either living as civilians on New Caprica now or decidedly disinterested in flying without Cylons to kill. There was still merit in running training, but even the CAPs every week now seemed like overkill.

Lee made a mental note to discuss the situation with the Admiral next time they met, and turned his attention to his upcoming shift. He was on with Kara and Dee in CIC, which meant he would probably spend the entire time trying to redirect the conversation to more on-topic discussions, while both women summarily ignored him and chattered happily about whatever they wanted. Lee was very appreciative of the friendship that had developed between him and Kara and Dee, but it tended to be a little awkward when they were actually trying to get things done.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts and lists of things to do that he almost ran smack into his XO, who was standing stolidly outside the closed — and bizarrely, frosted — doors of CIC.

"Sorry, Dee, I didn't see you there."

"That's all right, sir." She smiled warmly, but didn't change her position, and Lee realized suddenly that she looked like someone on a kind of guard duty. "Kara's waiting for you inside."

" _Waiting —?_ " He knew his eyebrows must have risen almost into his hairline by now.

"She said something about a security briefing? Allocating resources to run less frequent CAPs and working with decreased manpower?" Dee's tone indicated some significance to those statements, significance beyond their surface meaning, but Lee felt completely at sea.

"Uh … oh, right," he blurted out, nodding and twisting the door handle like he'd just remembered what she meant. "Um … see that we aren't, er, disturbed, Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir," Dee smiled, and cocked her head to the side. "By the way, happy anniversary."

"Thanks," Lee said, and, not bothering to question the incongruity of that statement, pushed through the door and closed it firmly behind him.

CIC was nearly empty of people, but this was hardly unusual. They'd been running off a skeleton crew for months, and lately even that had been scaled back. Aside from monitoring communications and vital functions, and a CAP if one was in the air, there was little else to do, and extra people often found themselves tripping over one another or twiddling their thumbs looking for something, _anything_ , to keep them occupied. So the duty shifts were reduced to three or four officers, and a handful of maintenance workers. An additional crew was supposed to be kept in readiness just in case the order to go to condition one came down, but Lee suspected that compliance with even that had slacked off.

It was surprising that he didn't immediately see Kara. Dee had said she was right there. Then his eyes cast to the right, over to the tactical table, and his jaw nearly dropped.

Kara stood behind it, hair hanging loose about her shoulders, her back to him.

Her very naked back.

She turned slowly, giving him ample time to appreciate the view. The smooth curves of her side; her hips, wiggling slightly from side to side in just a hint of temptation; her abdomen, punctuated by her navel, and the thatch of curls _just_ peeking out from behind the top of the table; her breasts, uncovered by any bra, nipples already taut; and finally, her face, shit-eating grin firmly in place, eyes bright and sparkling with mischief.

The blood left his brain so quickly he was surprised he didn't faint.

But still, there were rules to uphold, no matter how loudly his baser instincts were screaming at him to forget such petty regulations, and he was the _Commander_ , for frak's sake. Even if she was his wife, _surely_ this had to be illegal. Or … or _something_. Even if there really was nobody else here. Even if she'd just issued as clear an invitation as Kara Thrace knew how. Even if he was so hard it was almost painful …

"K-Kara," Lee began, but her name came out a croak, and before he could clear his throat to start again, she was speaking.

"So, how do you like your anniversary present?" Kara asked casually.

" _Anniversary_ present?" he exclaimed. "Kara, you are — you're _naked!_ "

"Yup," she said proudly.

"In _my_ CIC!"

"Right …" Kara replied, like she couldn't quite figure out where he was going with this.

"You are naked in the CIC of a battlestar _I_ command! During our duty shift!"

"Amazing deduction there, genius." She snorted. "With an intellect like that, you could give President Baltar a run for his cubits."

"But — you — we — do you _know_ exactly how many regulations you're breaking?" Lee sputtered. "Lewd Conduct, for a start, and I can think of at least three or four others right off the top of my head —"

Kara completely ignored him, choosing instead to come around the corner of the tactical table and advance on her husband until they were practically nose to nose. Her hand traced down his stomach, then lower, lower, cupping, palming him through his uniform pants. It felt exquisite despite all the layers of clothing in between.

"Funny, but you don't really seem to care all that much," she remarked, watching him struggle to keep a grip on both the file folders in his arms and what remained of his sanity. "Or I guess I should say, the top of your _other_ head doesn't care." Kara winked, and rubbed a little more firmly.

"Oh, yeah, and what happens if someone else comes in?" he demanded, fully aware that his body was doing nothing to back him up. "Or if someone h-hears —"

"You know," Kara said loudly, as though she hadn't even heard him, "you can learn a lot of interesting shit when you study battlestar schematics." The click of his fly being pulled down punctuated her words. "Like how on the battlestar _Pegasus_ , the CIC is automatically equipped for officials to conduct high-level security briefings, with soundproofing similar to firing ranges and frosted doors so no one below the clearance level can see what's going on inside." Her fingers were now unbuttoning his jacket. "And it helps if you're best friends with the XO and tell her not to let anyone in 'cause you want to give your husband an anniversary present."

"So _that's_ what Dee was —" The breath abruptly left Lee's lungs as Kara's hand wrapped around him. " _Frak_ , Kara!"

"Mmm, that's the idea," she agreed, and then she was kissing him, and the folders fluttered to the floor, and regulations flapped uselessly around his brain, but he couldn't be bothered to care, not when he was kissing back and his own jacket was off and it _was_ their anniversary, their sixth, so maybe this was okay … just once … one time …

His blood hummed with arousal as Kara dropped to her knees, taking his pants and shorts with her, and next moment he was flailing for something to hold on to, to keep his knees from buckling, as her mouth enveloped him. Lee let her get in a few swipes of her tongue, one long lick up the side, several sucking motions from her lips, before he placed a gentle hand on her head and moved backwards.

"It's _our_ anniversary, remember?" he said softly.

"True." She eyed him appraisingly.

"And we're here, and there's a command table right over there …"

Kara grinned, rising and tugging him over to the table in question. "I like the way you think, flyboy."

"Oh, didn't you only marry me for my devastating good looks?"

" _And_ your charm, especially when puking." Kara's eyes danced mischievously. "That'll be a story to tell your grandkids, huh?"

"Please no." He bent her over the command table.

"Oh, you know I'm gonna! I'll tell 'em all about the time I went to pop the question down by the river and you couldn't stop tossing your cookies long enough to — _mmm, yeah_ ," she ended on a moan as he filled her, abruptly, and they both groaned loudly enough that Lee was glad for that soundproofing.

"Kara?" He leaned forward, still inside her, pulled her up so their bodies were pressed together.

"Yeah?" she grinned.

Lee grazed teeth against the shell of her ear and she gasped, hips bucking against him.

"Shut up," he instructed.

He knew she didn't usually take kindly to orders, but Kara followed this one. Thereafter the only sounds in the room came from flesh slapping against flesh and an occasional moan as pleasure ratcheted higher. Lee had a brief moment of amusement wondering what straitlaced, by-the-book Helena Cain would have thought of this scene, Kara spread out half on the table and half off it, white-knuckled hands gripping the sides, and him behind her, practically on top of her, thrusting into her at a rapid pace and licking and kissing and nipping at her back, her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. Cain probably would've dropped dead on the spot from shock. He chuckled.

Kara turned her head slightly to face him, and he took the opportunity to press his lips to hers, catching her in a desperate kiss. "What?" she asked when her husband came up for air.

"Nothing." Lee brought his hands around to the front, to her breasts, and pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger. "I'll tell you — later, okay?"

Kara didn't respond, because at that moment her climax slammed into her and she arched against him, spine taut, crying out loudly enough to wake the dead. He certainly _hoped_ she hadn't been lying about the soundproofing, because if she was, this would be embarrassing.

" _Frak_ — Lee — ahh, yeah, again — _Leeeee_ —"

Despite himself he hissed, "Shhh," in her ear even as he repeated the thrust-shimmy-twist that had drawn that reaction in the first place.

"Soundproofing," she snapped back, and grabbed for one of his hands, guiding it down to where they were joined. " _Touch_ me, you — ahh — you _frakker_ —"

Lee obliged, pressing hard into her clit while his other hand snaked around and found her mouth, slid over it. As he'd expected, _wanted_ , Kara bit into his palm, and the pain sent a jolt through his veins as he grew even harder inside her. It wouldn't be long now, not long at all, and as soon as he thought the words it became exponentially more difficult to hold back. But he wanted to give her another chance to come, another chance to writhe underneath him and set him off, so he swallowed hard and kept pressing at her, almost massaging, tracing random letters around her clit with his index finger and drifting it up, to her navel and back down. Their chosen position meant he couldn't easily reach her breasts with his mouth, which would have been his preferred method of stimulation, so Lee made do with what he had. Pinch, roll — she was panting now — he leaned forward, struck by sudden inspiration, and fastened his teeth about her shoulder, not hard enough to draw blood, but that action would certainly leave a mark. He enjoyed seeing that on her, and on himself, tangible proof that they loved each other.

Kara was clearly thinking along the same lines, because she let go of the command table for a moment and grabbed hold of the arm working at her breasts, scoring her nails across it. She never let them get particularly long — it was a disadvantage in the cockpit, where long fingernails could easily snag on the gloves of a flight suit — but they too were enough to leave a mark, in the form of small reddened streaks that stung slightly when his muscles bunched and stretched under the skin. She pushed back hard against him, meeting his thrusts roughly, panting.

"Come on, Lee, godsdammit!"

"You first," he shot back, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the strain in his voice. His climax was barreling closer now and there really wasn't any way to stop it, so he just had to hope she was nearly there too.

As though she'd merely been waiting for permission, Kara broke around him for the second time, crying out harshly, cursing her husband and the Lords and herself before finally keening his name again, and at that, Lee couldn't wait any longer. He buried his face in her hair and pushed as deep inside her as he possibly could and came so hard his eyes crossed. He couldn't say her name back, couldn't make any attempts at coherency; the desperate pleasure flooding through him seemed to have entirely disconnected his brain.

"Lee?" Kara said, sometime later.

"Huh?"

Obviously, speech that made sense wasn't in the cards yet.

"You're pretty damn loud yourself when you really get going," she informed him.

"Well …" Lee drew in a breath, tried to get his breath back, fully aware that any denial would be just stupid at this point. He'd probably been grunting as noisily as she had yelled.

Kara turned back to look at him, cheeks adorably flushed and sweaty. "Well what?"

"Let's hear it for soundproofing," he whispered, and kissed her.


	55. Chapter 55

As he reached to shut off the alarm, Lee was smiling, even before he'd opened his eyes.

He was smiling for a reason he would never have admitted to anyone else, especially not to his wife, who would have murdered him in their bed for even _thinking_ such a thing. Really, he had to wonder at his own sanity, because what he should have been feeling was sympathy, or perhaps even guilt. And he did feel those emotions. But they were in stark contrast to his absolute, delirious _happiness_.

He shouldn't have been happy that the first noise he could hear upon waking was Kara being violently, thoroughly sick in their private head.

But he was.

With a yawn, Lee pulled himself automatically out of bed, picked up his water glass and padded toward the head. As had been his routine for the last several months, he filled the glass at the sink and bent next to the toilet.

"Good morning."

Kara gave him the evil eyeball. "For you, maybe."

Lee chose to ignore the barb; she was always at her worst in the morning in more ways than one. "Water?" he offered, holding out the glass.

Without another word she snatched it and drank greedily, then took a last gulp and swirled it around her mouth to rinse before spitting it into the toilet. "This is frakked up," Kara muttered angrily, slumping back against the bathtub. "This shit is supposed to go _away_ by sixteen weeks."

"Did it with Will?" Lee asked.

She shrugged. "I dunno. I don't remember. I sort of had other things on my — _frak_." Kara broke off abruptly and bent forward as another round of puking began. Lee quickly moved to hold her hair back and massaged her shoulders, murmuring soothing noises. He could admit to being happy for the _cause_ of the vomiting, but not that she was sick in the first place. He hadn't seen her like this when she'd been expecting their son, though that was mainly because he'd been too freaked out to step up.

"At least it's a sign that the baby is healthy," Lee pointed out after several moments.

"Bullshit, Lee," Kara snapped, briefly coming up for air. "You're not the one who has to frakking go through this, dammit."

He sighed. When she was like this, hormonal and cranky and sick, there was no reasoning with her. Some days were better than others, but she'd been ill more often during this pregnancy, which was hard on both of them. According to the sickbay doctors, the gestation itself was proceeding along normal lines, though that didn't make it much easier for Kara. She had been counting on the so-called "morning" sickness magically vanishing by the fourth month, and when that hadn't happened, she'd turned even more difficult and surly than usual. Lee hated seeing her suffer, and hated even more that there was so little he could do to help. Mostly he was reduced to this, kneeling beside her and trying and failing to offer comfort.

"Mama?" A small voice floated in from the next room. "Mama!"

Kara started struggling to her feet, but Lee put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll go," he assured her, and refilled her water glass. "Just stay here and relax for a minute."

"Yeah, right," she muttered, although she didn't otherwise protest.

Lee stopped in his own bedroom to quickly pull on a tank and a pair of pants, then headed over to Will's room. The boy was sitting up, grasping the rails of his toddler bed and chattering happily to himself. "Mama?" he said questioningly, spotting Lee.

"She's not feeling too great this morning, so you and I are going to get dressed together," Lee answered, reaching for the clothes he'd set out for his son the night before. They'd explained in the simplest terms possible that there was a new baby on the way, and that it made Kara sick sometimes, but they weren't sure exactly how much of this Will understood.

Sure enough, he looked puzzled for a moment, then grinned. "Blow crackers?"

Lee arched an eyebrow. "And just where did you pick that up?"

"It's _cookies_ , baby, not crackers," Kara corrected from the doorway behind them.

"Should've known," Lee muttered, and both his wife and his son burst out laughing.

"See Unca Sam?" Will inquired of his mother once they'd calmed down. Lee lifted him from the bed and set him on his feet, and he immediately ran to Kara.

"Yeah, we're gonna see Uncle Sam," she promised, then broke off as Lee opened his mouth to counter. " _What_ , Lee?"

"Nothing, it's just — are you sure you should go now? I mean, winter's coming on down there, and you haven't been feeling well lately, so I thought —"

"What, that I'm afraid of a little snow? Get serious, you frakker."

"Fwakker," Will repeated gleefully.

Lee sighed and ran a tired hand across his face. "You know, you might want to think about not swearing in front of him one of these days. Just an idea."

"But it's _so_ much more fun to hear you correct his bad language twenty times a day," Kara teased with a wink.

After breakfast in the mess hall (only a marginal success in Lee's opinion, as Kara ate just one piece of toast and could not be persuaded to touch anything else), they headed down to the hangar deck so Kara and Will could catch a Raptor to New Caprica. Originally, Raptors had descended to the planet multiple times in a single day, but as more military officers mustered out and fewer resources became available, those trips had been scaled back to once per week, then bi-weekly, and now happened just once a month. Of course, Kara could have commandeered a Raptor any time she wished, and she had done that on occasion, but there was no denying that journeys to New Caprica had grown fewer and farther between.

"Look, I still don't know if this is such a good idea," Lee told Kara as they stood by the Raptor's hatch. "I was reading a report the other day that said pneumonia's going around down there, and they're short of antibiotics —"

"Which is why we're taking some down," she reminded him patiently. "Stop being such a worrywart, for gods' sake. We'll be fine."

"Okay, okay." Reluctance continued to churn in his gut, but Lee embraced Will and kissed the top of his head. "You be good for Mama now. Look out for her and the baby."

"I help!" Will beamed proudly.

"That's right, buddy. You're a great helper." He lowered his son to the ground and turned to Kara, wrapping her in a firm hug. "And you take care of yourself. Come _right_ back if you're not feeling —"

"Yeah, yeah," Kara interrupted, but she was smiling. "I'll say hi to Sam for you."

"Absolutely. And Cally and Galen too — she must be getting pretty close to her time by now, right?"

"Eight or nine months," nodded Kara. "Yeah, we'll see them." She pulled him in for a lingering, tender kiss, a kiss that went on so long that wolf-whistles began to resound around them and the few deck crew present made a show of glancing at their watches and looking up and _tsk_ ing. Kara grinned and waved to the crowd, such as it was, before facing Lee again. "I love you," she said softly.

"I love you too," he promised, and slid a hand down to her abdomen, caressing gently. "And I love _you_. Take care of your mama today."

"He can't hear you yet, genius," Kara snickered. "He's barely even kicking."

" _She_ ," Lee corrected automatically; they'd resumed the old debate almost as soon as the docs had confirmed she was pregnant again. "This one's a girl, Kara. I know it."

"Keep dreaming, Apollo. And don't forget who was right last time."

"How could I, when you constantly remind me?"

"Mama …?" Will called from inside the Raptor, and both parents chuckled.

"Coming, baby," Kara called over her shoulder. "Sure you don't wanna come with?" she asked Lee with a last squeeze of his hand. "It'd be fun. We could leave the kid with Sammy and go back to the field."

Lee blushed as a particularly erotic memory slithered into his brain. "And freeze our asses off in the process? Kara, we'd catch our death of cold out there if nothing else."

"Aww, come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

"It ran off with _your_ sense of propriety," he retorted. "Nah, I'm only teasing. I'd love to, but I can't. I've gotta meet with Dee and discuss resource allocations for the winter months, figure out how much of our med stores we can spare."

"Your loss." She shrugged, and climbed carefully through the hatch. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Kara shouted with a smirk as it cycled shut.

"Which is to say, nothing!" Lee shouted back, but already she couldn't hear him.

He watched her through the window of the Raptor, Will tucked securely on her lap, the boy waving enthusiastically. Lee watched as the ship was lowered into the flight pod, as preflight checks were completed, as the Raptor became a tiny dot.

Then a speck.

Then gone.

***

Will seemed to have taken it upon himself to provide the official entertainment on the way down to New Caprica. He passed the first part of the journey by making faces at the two med techs who had come along to deliver the antibiotics, and the twenty-two-month-old then moved on to asking Kara the name and function of almost every instrument in the cockpit. This led to a deluge of "why" questions ("Why do they gots hats?" "They're not hats, they're helmets, baby, and they wear them because they need air to breathe." "Why?" "'Cause people can't survive in space." "Why?" "There's no oxygen." "Why?" "Because space doesn't have any atmosphere." "Why?") which his mother attempted to deflect by listing all the people they would see on New Caprica. Kara had to admit that the boy's father was much more skilled — not to mention patient — with this type of behaviour, and so she tended to defer to Lee when the "why" barrage began, which it seemed to roughly three hundred times a day. "Go ask your dad" probably wouldn't earn her Mother of the Year honours, had those existed, but Kara had never strived for perfection anyway, and there was a limit.

"Are we gonna see Uncle Sam?" she asked, hugging Will closer as the final descent to the planet began.

"Yep!" He grinned up at her. "See G'apa?"

"No, Grandpa's not going to be there. He's up on his own ship, remember?"

Will thought this over a moment, tongue poking out of his mouth. "Nana?"

"Maybe, if she's not in school," Kara replied. Laura, though not biologically related, seemed to have stepped easily into the role of honourary grandmother. Lee said he found this rather disturbing given several rumours that had rippled through the settlement linking Laura romantically with his father, but Kara didn't mind.

" _Boom!_ " the boy shouted next when the Raptor touched down, and she grinned at that. He was his mother's kid all right.

A gust of cold air blasted through the hatch as it cycled open again, and for a moment Kara regretted her decision to make the trip without donning warmer clothing. Lee, paranoid as he was, had dressed Will to survive the chilliest of winters, but she herself was wearing only a light jacket and a sleeveless green shirt. Some of that was the pregnancy, which seemed to have broken her internal thermostat along with everything else, but in conditions like this, more layers would have been useful.

Damn good thing she didn't _live_ down here.

Hoisting her son onto her hip, Kara headed for the main part of the settlement. It didn't look as though conditions had improved much since the last time she'd come. Tents still flapped in the wind, buttressed and partitioned only by metal dividers. The streets, or what passed for streets, were narrow and clogged with people of all ages, sizes and descriptions. Fires burned in metal barrels outside some of the tents, a meager attempt at snatching warmth from a land on which winter was quickly descending. Announcements requesting donations of clothing blared from nearby loudspeakers.

Mother and son were half-jostled, half-carried by the momentum of the crowd to Sam's tent, but when they peered inside, it was empty.

"Unca Sam?" Will said, frowning.

"I don't know," Kara shrugged. "We'll have to ask somebody." So saying, she grabbed a passerby. "Hey, you seen Sam Anders anywhere?"

"I think he's over there playing pyramid." The man pointed left, and Kara muttered a quick thanks before hurrying away.

Sam was indeed on the pyramid court, but she couldn't say he was actually _playing_. More like making the attempt, and failing miserably. He looked flushed, eyes fever-bright, and every few seconds he'd bend over and cough harshly.

"Unca Sam!" Will called out, and Sam looked up with a grin, only to be tackled to the ground by one of the other players. He let out a loud "Oof!" before succumbing to another coughing fit.

A thrill of fear crept up Kara's spine. "Hey," she said, offering him a hand to help him up. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Sam squeezed out between wheezing coughs. "It's just a cold, that's all. When did you guys get here?"

She ignored the question. "Sure as frak doesn't sound like a cold to me! Have you seen Cottle?"

"He was supposed to come today, but they asked me if I wanted to play, and …" Sam shrugged. "I would rather work this out of my system right here than lie in bed all day."

"Like hell," Kara snapped, grabbing his arm and beginning to lead him away over the teasing and protests of his teammates. "Lee said there's all kinds of shit going around this place. We're sending down stores of antibiotics from the _Pegasus_. And if you're this frakking sick you damn well _should_ be in bed."

"Unca sick?" inquired Will, twisting around in his mother's arms to look at Sam.

"Gods, not you too," Sam chuckled, and started to cough again.

Somehow, through a combination of bullying, cajoling, insisting, swearing, and outright physical strength, Kara managed to drag Sam back to his tent. Cottle was standing outside when they arrived, and by the expression on his face, had been just about to walk away.

"Well, look who it is," Cottle snickered. "Fancy seeing you around here, Starbuck."

"I could say the same for you," Kara returned, shooting a glance at Sam, who smiled sheepishly. "I was in the neighbourhood, figured I'd drop in. Haul your patients back to their tents for you and all that. I expect a retainer in cigars for each one of them."

"Not right now you don't." Cottle's eyes found her slightly rounded abdomen. "You look like you're pretty well along there."

"Four months. I've got docs on the Beast who say I'm fine." She pushed Sam toward the doctor. "This is the guy who really needs your help."

"You can start by boiling some water to make a compress, loosen some of that junk in his lungs," Cottle told her over the sound of Sam's renewed coughing. "I'll take care of the rest."

Kara tried not to listen to her friend's distress, tried to put it out of her mind as she poured water into a small container and set it on the stove to heat. Will flitted back and forth between the bed and the stove, chattering happily. She envied his innocent view of the situation. In his mind, he was just being helpful, exactly as his father had instructed him. He had no concept of the kind of danger Sam might be in, and she wasn't about to tell him.

 _Dammit, I should've come down sooner_ , she thought angrily. _Who knows how long the bastard's ignored this?_

The water finally having boiled and cooled, she dipped a threadbare washcloth into it and laid the cloth gently across Sam's chest. Despite the steam from the boiling water, his cough had not eased in the slightest, and Cottle was shaking his head as he packed away his stethoscope.

"Will, stay with your uncle," Kara ordered, and swung her jacket over her shoulders as she followed the doctor out of the tent. "So?" she demanded of Cottle once they were outside.

"There's fluid in the lungs," Cottle sighed. "It's probably pneumonia."

She swallowed hard. "So give him something. We brought down antibiotics from _Pegasus_ this morning —"

"And Anders isn't the only one sick," the doctor interrupted. "The allocation of resources down here is based on who needs them most, and I've got women and children who need those meds just as much as they need their next meal."

"Then we'll bring more, dammit!"

"No." Cottle shook his head. "You've gotta have a backup supply. I doubt the Commander will dispute that, even for you."

"So what, that's it?" she exclaimed.

He sighed again, not meeting her eyes. "I have a lot of patients to see. But he's young and he's strong. So make him rest, keep him warm, and with a little luck, he'll make it."

"Son of a bitch," Kara spat as Cottle hurried off. She could call Lee and ask for more anyway, but she knew the doc was right. Supplies had to be rationed now. This was their reality, no matter how much she hated it.

The baby fluttered inside her, tiny movements she wasn't even sure qualified as kicking. Godsdammit. Dammit, dammit, _dammit_. Kara whacked a pebble down the street with the toe of her boot and headed back to Sam.

"Look," she said a few moments later, crouched by his bed. "I'm gonna go find Tyrol and Cally, see if they have any warm clothes they can lend you. Don't you _dare_ get out of bed because I _will_ hurt you if you do. Got it?"

"Got it," Sam wheezed, but he was smiling.

"Will, you want to come with me, or stay here?" Kara asked her son.

"Stay," the boy answered immediately, and patted Sam's blanketed arm. "I help."

"Yeah, keep him in bed for me, okay?" She kissed the top of her son's head and squeezed him tightly. "I'll be right back."


	56. Chapter 56

"So, thought of any names yet?" Dee asked.

Lee chuckled at his friend's question. Long shifts in CIC invariably lent themselves to discussion of all kinds of topics, but he had to admit that this was one he hadn't expected.

"Nah, not yet," he smiled. "We've done the family thing already, so that's out. Right now our main occupation is arguing over whether it's going to be a boy or a girl."

"You don't want to know in advance?"

"Not really." Lee shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't mind either way, but Kara says she wants to find out when the baby's born. At her last ultrasound she ordered the doctors under pain of death not to tell her if they found anything."

Dee laughed. "I can believe that."

"So, we're waiting. Will was named on the spot anyway, so it probably doesn't matter all that much."

"Probably not," she agreed. "Although for what it's worth, I think _Anastasia_ is a lovely name." Dee winked.

"Not _Dualla_?" Lee teased back.

"Gods, no. Dualla Adama? Too many a's." She wrinkled her nose.

"Dee the Second." It was Lee's turn to laugh. "What if it's a boy?"

"Hmm … Hoshi?" Dee looked around CIC for inspiration. "Gaius? Or …" She paused, her eyes suddenly fixing on the DRADIS screen. "Commander?" she said sharply, all the levity gone from her tone now.

His eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement at her abrupt use of his rank. "Lieutenant? What is it?"

"I'm not sure." She was still looking at the screen. "Picking up something on DRADIS."

"DRADIS?" Lee followed her gaze, momentarily able to discern only the fuzzy static the screen had displayed ever since the fleet jumped into the New Caprica sector. Kara actually liked to make fun of people who checked the screen more than once or twice per shift, laughing and calling them paranoid. But the seriousness in Dee's voice indicated that whatever she'd spotted had her worried.

"How can you see anything in that soup?" he muttered.

"There it is," Dee said softly, and this time he caught it: a small dot marked _Unknown_ that was blipping into and out of existence, just barely visible through the static. It appeared, hung there for a few seconds, then vanished before popping up in a different location.

"What is it?" Lee peered upward. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh, my gods." Dee turned pale so quickly that Lee actually glanced down, expecting to see blood pooled at her feet. "It's a Cylon fleet. They found us … they found us!"

He looked back at the screen.

Felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

Where there had once been only static, the screen was now filled with identified enemy contacts. They spread out in every direction, a swarm of angry hornets hunting down what remained of the fleet in the air. And what remained was not much — a few ships had chosen to stay, with skeleton crews, but the rest were all on the surface.

 _The surface!_

Kara. Will. The baby. Both of them — _all_ of them — were down there.

What had he been thinking when he let them go this morning? What the _hell_ had he been thinking?

Beside him Dee was barking crisp orders into the comm. Alarms were beginning to blare, people were starting to filter into CIC. Some of them laughed and joked around, unable to believe this was anything but a poor attempt at a practical joke. They entered, they saw the DRADIS screen, and their smiles were wiped away in an instant.

 _Focus, dammit. Think._

 _Kara!_

Lee sucked in a breath; it sounded more like a gasp. Launch the alert fighters. That was the first thing to do. Whatever the cost, they _had_ to stay and fight. He sure as hell wasn't leaving his family to fend for itself on New Caprica.

"Sir!" Somehow Hoshi had materialized at the communications console, and was now signaling frantically for attention. "It's the Admiral for you."

With a curt nod of acknowledgment, Lee snatched up the phone. "Admiral, are you launching alert fighters?" he demanded without preamble. "We can take them, we just have to —"

"Lee." His father's voice cut him off swiftly. "We have to get out of here, right now."

 _What? No! No, no, no._ "We can't just leave all those people behind!"

 _My son. My wife. Our baby._

"There's nothing we can do," Bill replied, and though his voice shook slightly, his tone was firm. "It's taken us forever just to get to action stations over here. We are in no shape for a fight."

" _Kara and Will are down there!_ " Lee knew his voice was climbing octaves, knew people were probably starting to stare, but he didn't care. "I am not leaving my family here to die!"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, a pause containing nothing but dread. "We have no choice. It's the only chance we've got of remaining in a position to do anyone any good. If we stay, we will be destroyed, and the colonists will be left with no hope at all."

" _Sir —_ " But he couldn't think, couldn't imagine any way to change his father's mind or to refute the logic of what the Admiral was saying. Two battlestars against multiple baseships? The odds were astronomically in favour of the Cylons' success. But how would that be different if the fleet jumped away and then returned? How would staying and getting killed help Kara? But surely _leaving_ couldn't help her either.

"You have your orders," Bill said firmly.

The hum of a disconnected line buzzed in Lee's ear.

He felt a placating hand on his shoulder and knew it was Dee, offering solace. "Kara's resourceful," she said softly. "You know that. She'll find a way to protect them, _both_ of them. And we'll be back."

 _Godsdammit._

His fingers gripped the console, so tightly his knuckles turned white. The same console over which he and Kara had conceived their second child. That child was sheltered inside her now, safe. But safe for how long? And what about Will? Kara herself was not invincible, for that matter, though she liked to pretend she was.

"Begin —" Lee's voice clogged. He cleared his throat, tried to start over.

 _Kara, I am so frakking sorry._

"Begin jump prep. We're leaving, but we'll be back."

***

Being sick was a funny thing. Sometimes you felt on top of the world, ready to take on anything so long as you could stop and rest every few minutes. And sometimes it laid you out flat, to the point where even lifting your little finger a few inches was exhausting.

Sam felt caught between those two states of existence now. He was in bed, he was exhausted … but he wanted to be up, roughhousing with Will, taking full advantage of the boy's visit. He'd promised himself he would teach his honourary nephew how to play pyramid next time Kara brought the kid down for a day. And now here he was, but instead of being out on the pyramid court having fun, Will sat crouched beside his bed, unusually still for a child his age, taking care of Sam. It should have been the other way around, dammit.

But there wasn't much Sam could do. The doc had obviously given him some kind of sedative or medication before leaving, because he kept drifting in and out of consciousness, not entirely sure what was real and what wasn't. The world seemed fuzzy, off-kilter. The roof of the tent swirled above his head. And there was a weird clanking noise outside, almost like toasters marching.

 _Toasters?_

That had to be the meds talking.

He shut his eyes, hoping to sleep them off, but no sooner had he started to slide into unconsciousness once again when Will poked him.

"Unca Sam?"

"Huh?" Sam jerked awake, momentarily confused. "What, what is it?"

Will was looking toward the front of the tent. "Who's he?"

Sam followed the boy's gaze.

Gods, he'd _better_ be hallucinating.

But Will could see it too, which seemed to rule out that theory. Standing in the doorway, framed by the tent flaps, was a man Sam had hoped he would never encounter again in his life.

"I'm looking for Kara Thrace," Leoben Conoy said smoothly.

What the hell was _he_ doing here?

The clanking noises outside intensified.

"Mama!" Will proclaimed brightly.

Sam laid a quelling hand on his nephew's back. "I don't know who the hell you're talking about," he snapped at the Cylon.

"Perhaps not, but your young friend appears to," Leoben noted. "You won't mind if I remain outside your tent? If this boy is her son, he'll provide her with sufficient impetus to return."

Sam waited until the Cylon had exited — standing just outside one of the tent flaps, as promised — before cursing and slowly moving back the covers on his bed. Will opened his mouth to speak, but his uncle pressed a finger to his lips.

"Listen," Sam whispered, right in Will's ear. "We're gonna play a game, bud, okay? The game is — the game is that we have to get out of the tent the back way, and we have to be really, really quiet while we do it. We can't talk or laugh or make any noise at all, because that's the rule. Got it?"

"But Mama said —"

"Mama wants us to play the game. She told me so. And she'll be very happy if you do it. All right?"

Will looked a little confused, but nodded.

It seemed to take an age for Sam to find the strength to swing his legs onto the floor, then another age to stand, and one more to carefully hoist his nephew into his arms. He had to stop and cough several times while he did it. But the skinjob at the door appeared far more intent on waiting for Kara's arrival than he did in observing what the occupants of the tent were doing, and Sam was thankful for that.

Slowly he edged across the room, setting Will down next to the wooden table in the corner. "Go under the table, then crawl outside. I'm right behind you."

Will hurried to obey. Sam pulled his shirt up over his face, tucked his cheek into his arm, coughed until he thought his lungs would explode, and followed the boy.

He was sure Cottle wouldn't approve of what he was doing, under ordinary circumstances. Nor, for that matter, would Kara.

But these were not ordinary circumstances.

He _had_ to get his nephew out of this tent. Preferably off the planet, but out of the tent would do for now.

Sam crawled slowly, pausing at each little noise he heard, moving only the muscles that were absolutely necessary. Will was holding up the side of the tent at the other end, and after an eternity of pauses and jangled nerves, Sam reached it. They pulled themselves through, Will jumping to his feet, Sam trying to follow but knocked back by a wave of dizziness so intense he nearly fell over.

"You 'kay?" Will asked. For the first time, he sounded nervous.

"Fine, fine." Sam took as deep a breath as he could manage and peered around. Nothing but tents around them as far as the eye could see. _Good_. "All right, the … the next part of the game is that we have to find the ship you and your mom took to get here. But we can't use the main road. It's another rule."

The boy nodded, and trotted companionably beside his uncle as they wove their way through the network of tents. Sam wished, fervently, that he had eyes in the back of his head. But he didn't, and so there was nothing to do except turn around every few seconds, watching. Listening for the shouts of discovery and sounds of pursuit.

There were none.

Just the clanking of metal feet on the ground, over and over, a mechanized occupying army.

That's what they were. He'd seen them, in the road, red eyes sliding unceasingly from side to side.

With the Raptor in sight, and fortunately free of toasters, Sam started to cough again. He'd kept it at bay through most of the journey, owing to the need for silence, but his lungs felt on fire now, the pain crumpling him in half. Will wasn't smiling anymore.

"Go back." The boy tugged on his uncle's jacket. "Don't see Mama."

"We can't — we can't —" People were piling into the Raptor, the personnel who had originally come down that day and civilians recognizing — and snatching — an escape opportunity when they saw one. Kara was indeed not there.

But that didn't matter.

"Bud, listen." With great effort Sam pulled himself to his knees, placing his hands on his nephew's shoulders. "The people on that Raptor are going back up to your dad's ship. And you need to go with them, right now. It's very important."

"Why?"

"Remember that man we saw in the tent?" (Will bobbed his head up and down.) "He's a bad man, and he would want to do bad things to you if he could. You have to be safe. I want you to be safe, and I _know_ your mom wants you to be safe. And your dad … he's gonna be worried sick if you don't go back to him. You've got to get on that ship and go, and not look back. Do not look back."

His nephew started protesting even before he'd finished speaking. "Want Mama! She come too! I help!"

"I'll take care of your mother. I promise." Even as Sam spoke the words, he had no idea whether he could honour them. Leoben was waiting for Kara back at the tent. There was a chance Sam could get there in time to tell her Will was safe, but that chance was razor-thin. He had to help her in the best way he could — and right now, that meant ensuring her son was okay.

The world wavered around him, spinning slightly. Two more women jumped into the Raptor.

It was now or never.

Without further ceremony he picked Will up, glanced around for Cylons, and took off across the open square, towards the ship. Running was monstrously difficult with the state his lungs were in, but he ignored that. He imagined the look Kara would wear when she realized her son was off the planet and how frightened Lee must be, on the _Pegasus_ , watching basestars jump into orbit. Those thoughts kept him going, kept him scrambling, even when black spots darkened the edges of his vision.

"Wait!" Sam exclaimed as the last of the passengers seated themselves in the ship. "One more! You've got room for one more, dammit!"

The pilot — Margie or Megan or something, he couldn't remember — cast a doubtful eye toward the passenger compartment. "We're pretty full up, Anders. I'd love to take you, but I don't think you'll fit. A ground jump is tricky enough without the extra weight."

"Not me." He coughed desperately, felt Will's arms winding around his neck, clinging. "Not me. Just the kid. This is Lee Adama's son, dammit. You really wanna go back to your ship and tell your Commander you left his boy behind?"

Margie-Megan sucked in a breath. "All right, all right, put him in but make it quick."

Will had begun to cry in earnest now.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Sam kissed the top of his nephew's head. "I promise I'll see you later."

One of the women reached toward him at a signal from Margie-Megan, plucked Will from Sam's arms. The world started to spin and did not stop this time.

Sam crawled away as the engine fired.

Thin notes of crying still wafted through the air.

***

"Lee?"

He did not answer.

He couldn't.

He was wrung-out, used up, exhausted.

Yet desperation coiled within him like a spring, threatening to break loose.

"Lee!"

Dee wasn't using his rank. He wondered why.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" His voice was sandpaper.

"I've got Raptor eight-one-seven requesting permission to dock with the _Pegasus_ before proceeding on to _Galactica_. They … they say they've got someone important on board, sir."

Lee grabbed hope, crushed it between his fingers and threw it to the decking. "Raptor — where did they come from?"

"New Caprica, sir. Racetrack made a ground jump to the emergency coordinates programmed into DRADIS. They were the last ship to get off the planet."

"Tell her I'll meet them on the hangar deck."

And he was off.

It was stupid, it was dumb, and it would probably result in disappointment. But hope, traitorous hope, was flaring within him again. He was being unrealistic to expect that Kara, or Will, or both of them, had somehow gotten off New Caprica alive. A lot of unrealistic things had happened that day, though. The Cylons had returned. He'd been forced to jump away from the planet, against his better judgment. Most of the hours since then had been spent in a task Lee had hoped never to complete again: strategizing for the inevitable counterattack. Which at this stage mainly involved constant phone conversations with the Admiral.

That morning, his concerns had been so petty. Now, they seemed deadly serious.

He just wanted to hold her again. Feel her in his arms. Hear Will laugh. Hug them tightly and never, _ever_ let go.

The hangar deck pulsed with activity, surprising given the limited numbers of crew. But people were pouring off a Raptor, gazing at their new surroundings, hugging each other.

Lee didn't see Kara.

Disappointment burned brightly within him.

Racetrack was engaged in an animated conversation with Showboat when he approached, but both quickly broke that off.

"We have Will on board," Maggie said, before Lee could even open his mouth. "He's pretty freaked out, but he's safe. I'm sorry we couldn't do more."

Impulsively he pulled her into a hug. "Thank you," Lee whispered, wondering at the same time if those words could ever be adequate. "Gods, I — thanks."

Maggie shook her head. "Sam Anders brought him. He brought him and he insisted we take him on board. He didn't even care about himself, he … he just wanted to make sure your son got off New Caprica."

Lee sucked in a breath, letting his eyes slide momentarily shut.

 _Sam, thank you. Wherever you are and whatever you're doing right now, thank you._

Once more the words were not nearly enough, especially as the person to whom they were addressed was not even present. He made another silent pledge.

 _Whatever it takes, I'll go back for you. I will shake your hand and I will thank you myself._

He smiled, and clapped Maggie on the back, and climbed up to the hatch of the Raptor.

Scanning the interior, Lee didn't even see Will at first. The cockpit looked empty, a little battered from having to contain so many people, but empty. He squinted into the gloom, watching, looking. Then — a flash of movement. Blue eyes staring straight ahead. The boy was squished _under_ the communications console. He'd wedged himself in there, knees drawn tightly up to his chest, arms clasped around his legs. He wasn't glancing around curiously, watching, absorbing the world. He was simply staring.

Lee was tempted to sweep right in there, embrace his child and rescue him from whatever horrors the Cylons' invasion had inflicted. But this wasn't like a skinned knee or a bruised elbow, something that could be kissed better so that the boy immediately returned to himself. This was … Will having to leave his mother, a woman he'd promised to protect. This was the boy being thrust into the arms of an unfamiliar Raptor crew by his beloved uncle, and needing to watch as that uncle was left to the clutches of an invading army. Will might not have been able to articulate these things, young as he was. But he surely felt them.

Lee crouched down, sinking to a sitting position. "I'm right here, buddy," he whispered. It took a concerted effort to keep his voice from shaking. "You don't have to come out if you don't want to. But I'm not going anywhere."

They stayed.

He wasn't sure for how long; it could have been hours.

Several times Racetrack peered through the hatch, but Lee shook his head slightly, and she withdrew.

Father and son grappled with themselves. Lee didn't dare to contemplate how he was going to face his quarters, a table full of Kara's unfinished paperwork, a closet filled with her clothes, an empty bed.

"I miss her too," he murmured at one point, his voice perilously close to breaking, and thought he heard a small sniffle. But when he dared to glance at Will, the boy's cheeks were dry.

It took him another few minutes to realize that the sound had come from his own throat.

"Mama gone," Will said.

Lee almost jumped at the noise. They'd been silent for so long.

The way his son had phrased the words gnawed at him. Will wasn't asking a question. He was making a statement. Lee felt wetness slide down his face as Will uncoiled, slowly and tremulously, from underneath the communications console. A small hand grasped his.

He ached for Kara. A literal, _physical_ ache.

"She's gone now," he said, when he could trust himself to speak. "But we will get her back. I promise you we will get her back."


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some potentially disturbing themes contained in this chapter - absolutely nothing graphic, but I don't think it's spoilery to say that the characters are now dealing with rather significant emotional trauma relating to the loss of people close to them. If that squicks you in any way, I would stay away. Just so you know.

_Panicked voices and shouts of alarm drew them into the street._

 _At first, they'd assumed it was nothing. People freaked out about everything — everything — in this place where little was sacred, where your business was also everyone else's business. Small scuffles were constantly breaking out among the colonists due to things overheard, things which were not intended for public consumption and which would have been well out of that arena had it not been for the relative thinness of canvas walls. It didn't help matters that Baltar held an almost dictatorial attitude towards dissent. Spying on one's neighbours had not only become a spectator sport, it was now an occupation that was all but officially sanctioned by those in government._

 _So, Galen told Kara, the screaming in the road was nothing to worry about. Not that she was worried. Why the hell would she want to go be part of some riot over whose socks were cleaner? Sam was waiting for her in his tent, and Will was relying on her to help his uncle, and every time she imagined her friend coughing and pale and unable to get his breath, the mental image brought her one step closer to abandoning protocol and propriety and calling Lee to demand he release the remainder of the antibiotic stores aboard the_ Pegasus _._

 _But the screaming outside grew louder, and the steady thud-thud of ships breaking atmosphere made Kara jerk her head upwards._

 _"What the hell …?" Galen paused, frozen in the act of lifting a coffee mug to his lips._

 _"Training maneuvers?" Cally suggested, though the look on her face clearly indicated she didn't believe that._

 _Kara shook her head. "Not for months now. Not enough people to make 'em worth running."_

 _By unspoken agreement they headed as one toward the tent flap._

 _The Tyrols halted, stunned into inaction by the sight of row upon row of Centurions marching in neat lines down the main road. But Kara flicked her eyes to the sky. She understood on some level that the gesture was useless._

 _She knew what she would see._

 _Cylon Raiders, their neat formations mirroring those of the toasters on the ground. They were flying unopposed, without fear that they might be apprehended._

 _So Lee had jumped._

 _The Old Man probably talked him into it, because otherwise he'd never have left voluntarily knowing she and Will were on New Caprica. It was a smart decision. It was the correct decision. Retreat until you can develop a plan and be sure of your tactics. The soldier in Kara understood and supported this._

 _The wife and mother — which were equally crucial aspects of her, Kara had discovered — could not._

 _How dare he just leave them here to fend for themselves? Some things were more important than_ orders _, for gods' sake. And Lee had kicked up such a fuss about this kid they were having, had made such a big deal of the fact that he wanted to be there and be part of it this time. So now he was turning tail and frakking running?_

 _Of course, it wasn't about the baby at all, nor was it strictly about the Adama family itself. When the survival of the human race was at stake, prior plans had to be tossed out the window._

 _Still, his abandonment, even under duress, hurt._

 _But she couldn't waste time standing around and whining about it. The toasters had a problem on their hands already, and that problem was that Starbuck happened to be on the planet. She wasn't supposed to be, but the gods worked in mysterious ways. And if she was going down, it wouldn't be without one hell of a fight._

 _Beside her, Galen unclenched his jaw._

 _"So what do you want to do now, Captain?"_

 _When she answered, her voice was cold steel._

 _"Same thing we always do. Fight 'em until we can't."_

***

The words slid around in her mind.

 _  
_Fight 'em until we can't._   
_

She'd meant them.

But now she could hear other people talking.

"It would appear that your initial task was successful," commented a female voice.

"Indeed it was. It required a higher price than I had originally anticipated, but that price was not one I was unwilling to pay," a man answered her.

"Oh?"

"The life of the boy. An unfortunate sacrifice, of course, but it will ultimately help to ease the transition. She must be made to release all prior attachments if she is to see her path through to its conclusion."

"But Simon confirmed she is pregnant! Are you suggesting —?"

"Of course not. I have … other plans for this one."

Those words filtered into her awareness, through her consciousness, meaningless syllables slipping through her mind like water. She wasn't ready to acknowledge them. Wasn't ready to hear what they were saying.

"I hate to be the pedantic member of this group," a second man joined in, "but I don't think it's unreasonable to question the setting of your little venture. The advantages in removing her from the general population are admittedly considerable, but why not simply leave her to rot in a detention cell?"

"God has a plan for her," the first male voice replied, an air of smug superiority detectable. "He has chosen me to carry out His will."

"Somehow I doubt hanging curtains and picking out wallpaper are matters with which God concerns Himself." The second man snorted.

"All of this is part of His plan," the first voice reiterated firmly.

"Fine. Knock yourself out." Footsteps padded across the room. "We have bigger concerns in any case. Come, Caprica."

A door opened and shut.

Silence.

Her body felt like the aftermath of a nuclear detonation.

Her head throbbed.

Her throat was bone-dry, as though she'd swallowed a handful of sand.

Nausea crept into her mouth.

Where was she?

How did she get here?

And why — _why_ — did she have such a big frakking headache?

Opening her eyes did not seem like the smartest idea right now, but neither did she have any choice. The last thing she remembered was Cylons marching, and blackness, the sensation of falling, and it definitely didn't feel like she was lying on the ground right now. Which would suggest she'd been moved, and that she was therefore in trouble.

First one eye, then the other.

It was like lifting weights.

A tidy room flickered into view. Much different and far more elaborate than any New Caprica tent. She would've pegged it for _Colonial One_ , except that even their digs weren't _this_ fancy. This place had actual curtains. And wallpaper. And it felt like she was in an actual bed, with a soft pillow and warm covers, rather than a sack stuffed with sawdust and a set of scratchy, industrial sheets.

 _Sleepaway Holiday Suites Aerilon?_

She caught movement in her peripheral vision and snapped her head around to look.

Mistake. The room spun wildly and a bubble of nausea surged up her throat. Eyes shut tightly again, she let her head fall back to the pillow and concentrated on breathing slowly, in and out, in and out.

"Take it easy, Kara. You're going to feel a little dizzy."

 _Lee?_

No.

She wanted it to be him, so desperately, but she knew it wasn't.

Yet she knew that voice. She'd heard it, once before. A couple months after the Colonies were wiped out. She'd interrogated him … and prayed …

 _Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer. I don't know if he had a soul or not, but … if he did, take care of it._

Something cool sponged her forehead. Instinctively she jerked away from the touch.

"Get the hell off!"

Leoben watched her calmly. "I'm glad to see you've come around. I was getting worried."

"Right," Kara snapped, and though every muscle in her body was screaming at her, she pushed up on her elbows and scooted to the other side of the bed, away from the skinjob. "Should've thought of that before you knocked me the frak out, shouldn't you?"

Her stomach was roiling again. She swallowed hard.

"I apologize, but I wasn't certain you'd come with me willingly."

"No shit."

The Cylon just kept looking at her. "Are the symptoms lessening?"

"What do you care?" she barked, and resumed her appraisal of the surroundings, scanning them with a practiced soldier's eye.

The room she was in now contained the bed, two night tables, a closet, and another small door which she presumed led to a head of some kind. A frosted divider separated the bedroom and a living area, but a large staircase was in the way, so Kara couldn't see much of that. Just a strip of blue curtains, an ugly speckled painting on the wall, and part of what looked like a table and chairs. There was a window beyond, through which daylight leaked. No doubt the glass was bulletproof. She didn't have her sidearm anyway — she'd brought it with her to New Caprica, because you never knew what nutcases you might run into, but it had been taken away from her. Obviously, her reputation was well-known.

Leoben was speaking again. "Kara, I care about your welfare. That's why we're here. That's why I have spared nothing to make you as comfortable as possible."

"You _really_ care?" She leaned forward, her smile a feral baring of teeth. "Then let me go. Let me get up and walk out of here. Let me go back to — to the people who need me." Kara bit her tongue; she'd almost said Will's name, and some part of her knew — _knew_ — that she had to keep the Cylon from finding out about her son for as long as possible. They'd probably already figured out that there was a kid on the way, which wasn't hard, but as long as the baby was inside her, she could protect it.

"People like Will?" Leoben asked mildly.

Kara froze.

"The population records kept on _Colonial One_ proved most instructive," the Cylon continued. "Not only do you have a son, you are married to the boy's father, Lee Adama, currently in command of the battlestar _Pegasus_. Which, if I recall correctly, is no longer in orbit around New Caprica."

" _What did you do with my son?_ " Kara knew she was yelling, but she couldn't stop. " _Where the hell is he?_ "

Her words had no effect. The skinjob remained infuriatingly, maddeningly serene.

"I once told you that you had a destiny, Kara Thrace. That is still true. And God has chosen me to guide you along that path."

She vaulted back across the bed, ignoring the renewed pounding of her head. "I don't give a _shit! Where is he?_ "

"All those who seek to fulfill God's plans must make sacrifices," Leoben went on, like he hadn't heard a word. "I had hoped to find you without attachments, without anyone or anything that could act as a barrier to your true destiny. However, as this is not the case, I was forced to take matters into my own hands."

Again Kara stopped cold, in the act of gripping the arms of his chair to lean over him. She'd been screaming before, but now, she could hardly whisper.

" _What?_ "

"I assure you, it was painless. He didn't suffer. I made certain of that."

Another bomb was exploding within her mind.

 _No._

No.

No no no!

She staggered back, pain and shock like physical blows.

Clutching her abdomen.

Shielding the baby, like she hadn't shielded its older brother.

"You — you — killed —"

The rest of the sentence would not come. It was too ugly, too _wrong_.

He couldn't be dead. He _couldn't_.

She'd left him with Sam and she _knew_ Sam would have died to defend him.

So did that mean —?

"A crude way of putting it, but yes," Leoben said. "Will was a necessary sacrifice, Kara. The path along which your destiny lies is one you must walk alone. It's best to sever all attachments now, so that you may find that path with a clear spirit."

The baby moved underneath her fingers, and Kara struggled to draw breath into unwilling lungs.

"You're lying," she screamed suddenly. "You're a motherfrakking _liar!_ "

The Cylon remained impassive. "Kara, you know the facts. You know that it was impossible for him to remain anonymous. You know that he was left alone in a tent with a man who could barely stand from illness. A noble assumption, to believe Anders could protect him. Noble, but foolish."

She wanted to kill him she wanted to hurt him she wanted to strangle him with her bare hands —

But Will — _Will_ —

He'd needed her.

And she hadn't been there.

She couldn't protect him. She couldn't save him.

Instead Kara lay gasping on the bed, ineffectual, impotent.

If Will was gone, how could she hope to safeguard his sibling?

 _I'm sorry._

Her eyes slid shut against the threat of tears.

 _Lee, I'm sorry._

***

"Will, come on, it's time to get going!"

Lee checked his watch. They were late, of course. Seemed like it was absolutely impossible to get anywhere on schedule when you had a toddler in tow. It had been even worse lately, and while he'd _tried_ to be understanding, the fact remained that he was still in command of an entire battlestar. Some timetables just had to be adhered to.

"Will, _let's go!_ "

No response.

He sighed gustily and set down the file folders in his arms, heading back in the direction of the bedrooms. Just as he passed his son's room, a small voice floated out.

"Daddy?"

Lee scrubbed a hand over his face. "What is it, buddy?"

"I hadda accident."

He closed his eyes and counted to ten, willing patience into his mind. He certainly wouldn't make the security briefing on time, not if he had to drop Will off at Lacey's and catch a Raptor to _Galactica_. And that would make this the fourth security briefing he'd been late for in the month and a half since the invasion of New Caprica. The Admiral hadn't said anything yet — Will was his grandson, after all — but Lee wasn't particularly anxious to try his father's patience. Bill had been considerate enough.

With another sigh, Lee headed into the room, lifting Will from where he was sitting and carrying him directly into the head. This too was a semi-frequent occurrence, so much so that he was seriously considering putting the boy back in diapers for the time being. The transition was a change they'd hoped would be well on its way to being accomplished once the baby came, but neither had bargained on Kara's sudden disappearance. Logically Lee knew that the answer was simply patience and time (along with, hopefully, her retrieval from New Caprica), but emotionally …

He set Will on the floor and mechanically began the cleanup process, his mind racing ahead. _Let's see, if I get him to Lacey's and don't linger too long I should be able to make the oh-eight-hundred Raptor, although that's supposing they're back from their courier run by that time … if not I guess I'll have to call the Admiral and get him to rearrange the briefing … for the fifth time this week, godsdammit … why the hell can't I ever get anywhere on time?_

Lee might have continued in this vein for a while longer had he not heard the sniffle, a noise that definitely did not come from him this time.

Will was crying silently, fat tears trickling down his cheeks, his lower lip stuck out. His father had a sudden vision of another little boy, older, but no less vulnerable, needing to be comforted by his older brother who was more of a parent than the little boy's biological parents had ever been. The situation now was dissimilar, and Lee needed to remember that. But …

"Will, it's okay." He set down the wet cloth he'd been using and pulled his son into his arms. "I'm not angry with you, I promise. Accidents happen, all right? It's not your fault."

Almost before his father had finished speaking, Will was shaking his head. "Want Mama," he insisted instead, his voice muffled slightly in the hug.

Lee swallowed, clearing his throat around a sudden clench. _Dammit, I want your mama back too._ But of course, he couldn't say that. Instead, he bent to look Will in the eye. "Buddy, remember what I told you when Racetrack brought you back from the planet?"

The boy paused, thinking a moment, then gazed up at his father. "We get Mama back."

"That's right. We're going to get Mama back, and we're going to get your new baby sister or brother back, and we're going to get Uncle Sam back, and Nana, and everybody else who isn't here right now. Everyone's going to come back, and then we'll have a huge party on the hangar deck."

"Cake?" Will brightened.

"Sure, we can have cake." Lee kissed the top of his son's head. "And decorations, and streamers, and balloons —"

"Pop!" The two-year-old clapped his hands together.

"Yeah, you like making them explode better, huh?" Never mind that there probably weren't any streamers or balloons left in the universe. They'd had a few for Will's first birthday party, and a few more since then, but party supplies were undeniably scarce. "But we'll have all of that. And it'll be the best party _ever_."

"G'apa come?"

"I'm sure Grandpa will be there. And Lacey too. We're going to see her this morning."

Instantly the toddler's features crumpled, and he threw his arms around Lee. " _No!_ Stay wif you!"

 _Oh, great, what the frak did I say now?_ "But you like Lacey, don't you?"

Will gazed up at his father through tear-filled eyes. Answer enough.

"Stay wif you," he repeated softly.

And there was one point, not so long ago, when Lee would not have even been tempted to leave his quarters. But now … he couldn't keep passing the buck to Dee forever. She loved Will, and she understood what had happened after the fleet jumped away from New Caprica perhaps better than anyone. However, she was the XO, and permanent command wasn't exactly in her job description.

"Daddy?" Will tugged at Lee's uniform.

Lee breathed in, counted to ten, and forced a smile. "I have to go this morning," he told his son gently. "But how would you like to come with me to see Grandpa?"

Hopefully the Admiral wouldn't mind an extra attendee at his security briefing.

***

The explosion shook the apartment, rattling windows, overturning knickknacks on tables, causing paintings on the walls to sway drunkenly back and forth, and jolting the sole occupant of the bedroom. A sharp intake of breath, eyes flying open, elbows propped instantly on fabric, and Kara was looking to the window, straining to see past the staircase in her way.

Silence.

No screaming, no yelling, no sounds of ships breaking atmo. She knew she'd be able to hear that even in here.

 _Frak._

But it was probably better this way.

Footsteps moved across carpet in the next room. Instantly Kara dropped back down, lay on her side, cupping her arms around her abdomen. Her eyes slammed shut as she pretended the slow, even breathing of sleep.

He wasn't fooled.

But then, he _never_ was.

She heard him pause in the doorway.

"I wonder what that was?"

"Talk to me again and I'll blow chunks on your rug," Kara threatened without opening her eyes.

He sighed, the noise long-suffering. "Kara, this has gotten us nowhere. I'm trying to help you, so it would be nice if we could address each other civilly."

"Bullshit," she snapped.

"Perhaps." The bed sank slightly under his weight as he sat down, and she jerked her legs instinctively away. She hadn't realized he was that close, though she should have. "But this prolonged pouting will get you nowhere. It's time to move on."

Her son's face floated into her mind, and she could not, _would not_ , push the image away. "Cylons don't die, they download. So explain to me how the hell you know _anything_ about grieving."

Another sigh. "I was merely accelerating a process you would have needed to complete in any case, if you are to fulfill your destiny. You came to me with attachments, Kara. That is no one's fault but your own."

" _You murdered my son!_ " She was yelling now, sitting up, not even aware of having uncurled from her prone position. "You — frakking — _killed him!_ And I'm sure you'll do the same to this baby as soon as he's born!" Nausea welled up her throat. "So don't give me this _shit!_ "

"You're wrong," Leoben replied softly, a small smile playing around his lips.

"About _what?_ "

"I don't plan to kill your unborn child. Not while he is gestating, and not after he is born. There are other ways he can serve God."

" _Liar_ ," Kara spat.

But his words had chilled her.

Leoben stood briskly and reached out to pat her leg before she could react. "There's a matter I need to attend to. I shouldn't be long."

She glared at his retreating back, all the way into the living room, up the stairs to the door. As soon as it clicked shut, Kara leaned over and made good on her earlier threat. Nice little mess for him to clean up whenever he came back, though he probably wouldn't care. As long as she could put up with the faint, lingering scent of what she'd eaten for lunch an hour earlier, it was still an effective resistance.

Kara lay down once more and clasped her abdomen again. Its bulge was now quite pronounced. The baby rolled and tumbled inside, then went back to doing that fluttering thing that the _Pegasus_ docs said was hiccups. Leoben's words came back to her, unbidden.

 _There are other ways he can serve God._

What the hell did _that_ mean?

Did she really want to know?

 _Dammit, Lee, why the frak didn't I listen to you for once in my stupid life?_

Of course, her husband had been worried about the weather, not a Cylon invasion. But the result was the same. She'd dismissed Lee's concerns and taken Will down to New Caprica anyway. Now he was dead.

And Kara might as well be.

There was no way out. No way at all.

She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep before the tears came.

***

"How are you holding up?"

Lee blinked at the query.

Part of him had expected it — it was, after all, the question he got asked most these days — but he was nonetheless surprised at the person asking it, that this person would take time away from military strategizing to inquire about such a thing as someone else's mental state.

"Fine," he replied mechanically, his standard response to this particular question. "I mean, some days are better than others, but we're surviving."

"Okay, that's the bullshit public relations answer," Bill chuckled. "Now what's your real one?"

Lee stared.

He was amazed that his father — _his father_ — was persisting, when usually the elder Adama would have shied away from such messy and difficult issues as emotions. Especially those felt by his own son. But more than that, Lee simply did not know how to respond. He'd given the standard, pat answer so often that he really hadn't bothered to think about what he _actually_ felt. This was mainly because backlogging the emotions allowed him to stave off the avalanche he was sure would rip him apart if he gave into it. He didn't have time for that. There were too many things to do, too many tasks which required his attention. People were depending on him. _Will_ was depending on him, and if there was one thing Lee didn't want to do, it was lose control in front of his child.

Before he could say anything, though, Will spoke up from his position cuddled in Lee's lap.

"Miss Mama," the two-year-old said softly.

Bill reached over and squeezed his grandson's hand. "I bet you do."

"G'apa get Mama back?" The boy leaned forward, suddenly interested.

"Your dad and I are working on it," Bill promised. "And she'll be back before you know it."

"And _you_ know that's totally unrealistic," Lee muttered, feeling annoyance course through him. "Sir, we're not in any way close to working out how we'll get back there, let alone figuring out something that'll let us pluck people off the surface. Besides that, we don't have any reliable intelligence to say anyone's even _alive_ on New Caprica. The Cylons could've executed everyone and kept the settlement for themselves!"

He stopped abruptly, cold dread piercing him.

Had he really just said that?

Had he really just admitted to wanting to give up on Kara? On their baby?

His father was gazing at him, concern vivid in his eyes. Will sniffled and burrowed more deeply into Lee's arms.

"I — I'm sorry," Lee mumbled raggedly, "I — I didn't mean to —"

"Lee." Bill clasped his son's hand. "It's all right."

"No, it is damn well not all right! We're hanging here in this frakking nebula doing absolutely shit-all, coming up with all these plans that have _no_ chance of working, while three-quarters of human civilization rots on New Caprica!" He was shouting now, but he couldn't stop himself. "But that's okay, because we get three squares a day and we relax in our cushy offices and push paper around and at night we sleep in real beds and _nobody_ cares that the toasters might be wiping out the rest of our race right under our noses! And my wife — my _wife_ —"

He gasped in a breath, realizing that he'd almost brought up the subject of the baby, when he had promised himself he wouldn't tell his father until Kara was at his side and able to give the news too. But more than that, Lee could feel the avalanche starting, could feel the first bastions of his control crumbling, and he _couldn't_ let that happen.

"We should have stayed." Lee didn't meet the Admiral's eyes. " _I_ should have stayed."

 _If I can, I'll always come back to you._

But Kara hadn't known what would happen on New Caprica when she'd told him that. If she _could_ come back … but suppose she couldn't?

"Lee, this isn't your fault," Bill insisted. "Speaking as the commander of this fleet, I know that jumping away from the planet was the correct strategic decision." He paused, squeezing Lee's hand again. "But as your father, I understand why you wanted to stay. I wanted to stay too."

"I _can't_ say I was just following orders," Lee snapped. "That's unfair to Kara and you know it."

"I do. But by following that order you made sure we could go back to fight another day. You made sure we could return with a better plan and with contingencies in place. The responsibility for doing what was right in that moment, despite tremendous personal hardship, rests with you, and it's not an easy burden. It's one I wish I could have spared you."

"Then you shouldn't have put me in command of _Pegasus_." Lee snatched his hand away and tightened his arms more protectively around Will, who was watching the proceedings with wide eyes. "The whole frakking cycle's just going to repeat itself all over again. I'm running a battlestar and there's all kinds of shit I'm responsible for and not only is it going to take me away from my family but it's going to force me to choose between the good of the fleet and the good of my wife and my son, and maybe that's just not a choice I'm prepared to make right now!"

Bill just watched him, without a word.

"What, you're not going to say anything?" demanded Lee. "You're not going to start lecturing me about how the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or some other piece of crap pat answer?"

His father leaned back against the cushions of the leather couch. "I expect it would be somewhat pointless for me to argue, given that I agree with you."

"You _what?_ "

"I agree. I probably shouldn't have put you in command, but not because I don't have confidence in you. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm very proud of you, son."

Lee froze, barely able to keep his mouth from dropping open.

"But I wondered when I gave you the _Pegasus_ whether this would happen," Bill continued. "I wondered if you would resent me or believe I was trying to perpetuate the cycle of our family."

"Well, weren't you?" Lee knew he was being rude, but it was also no secret that William Adama had always tried to subtly mold his sons in his own image — with varying degrees of success.

"Not intentionally. I know that may be difficult for you to believe, but it's true." The elder Adama sighed, a tinge of regret creasing his features. "I have confidence in you. But … I also hoped you could be a better person than I was. Than I _am_."

Lee suddenly felt hollow, drained. "Why?" he mumbled.

"Because you have your family with you." Bill beamed a gentle smile at his namesake, and received a tentative grin in return from Will. "Living up here, or wherever else I was, and only coming home on shore leaves isolated me. I forgot what was important, _who_ was important. You have Will right here, you have Kara, and so you're more inclined to act in their best interests. That's not wrong, Lee."

"But it's not right, either," Lee argued, wondering simultaneously how his father had managed to reverse perspectives so seamlessly. "And I feel like I'm caught. And I don't know what the _hell_ to do."

"Follow your instincts," replied Bill softly. "Even if they conflict with what I've told you, even if they cause you to question my orders. As long as you keep an open mind and remember what matters, you won't go far wrong."


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The same warning applies to this chapter as to the last: themes are explored herein that may be disturbing to some readers, so please proceed with caution.

He was gone.

He wasn't there.

But when _wasn't_ he there?

Did he ever truly leave her alone?

He was always watching. Waiting. Like he hoped she'd crack. Like one day she might magically turn to him and tell him she loved him, him and his frakked-up God, and that she wanted to follow her destiny. Whatever the hell _that_ was.

Someone should have told him at some point that killing your potential lover's child, and kidnapping said lover, were not exactly good things to do if you hoped to have your affections returned.

He never provided her with any way to mark time. No calendars. No clocks. No watches. She'd figured out how to discern the passing of hours by observing the sun, the way it moved in the sky, the way the shadows shifted in the stupid dollhouse he called their apartment. Months were more difficult. There was no paper on which she could have kept a secret record, and even if she'd tried it, she had little doubt he would discover and destroy it. Frakker probably had the whole place bugged. Or else he'd alter her markings to make her believe more time or less had passed than she thought. She wouldn't put it past him.

She learned that the only reliable indicator of time's passage was the expanding of her abdomen, and the increasingly strong kicks and squirms of the baby inside.

Every so often that toaster doctor was allowed to see her and examine her to make sure she was as healthy as she could be. Simon's visits were timed irregularly enough, however, that a schedule could not be built upon them. She hated them in any case. When he touched her, she saw the Farm in his eyes. She saw Sue-Shaun, and the other innocents slaughtered that day. The way the toasters looked at her made her insides squirm with revulsion.

On the last visit, Simon had smiled in what he obviously thought was a benevolent way, and he'd said, "Kara, I can tell you the sex of your child, if you like. I have a very clear reading on my screen here."

She hadn't missed the way Leoben leaned forward slightly, interest plain on his features.

"No," she'd said flatly.

"Are you sure?" Simon had asked. "It'll only take a second."

" _No_ ," Kara snapped, and then she had turned her face toward the wall, just in case he tried to foist it on her anyway.

The muttering between Leoben and Simon as the latter packed up his equipment had been even more intense than usual after that. She suspected Simon had told Leoben anyway, and she didn't like that he now had one up on her. But she refused to give him the satisfaction by asking about it.

After that appointment, she had a nightmare, the first since her kidnapping.

She had been back at the Farm, in that same room with the baby-making machines, but instead of Sue-Shaun, a young woman with Kara's eyes and Lee's features stared, wide-eyed, at the monitors pasted onto her face and the way her legs were spread wide. Kara had never seen the woman before, but she knew, _knew_ , that this was her child. And she stood there, rooted to the spot, watching as her daughter was forced at gunpoint to give birth to dozens of babies, each one dying directly after birth, their red glowing eyes sliding back and forth in panicked synchronicity.

When she woke, sweaty and gasping, she could only hobble to the adjoining head and retch.

During each one of his visits thereafter, Simon asked her the same question. _Would you like to know if you're carrying a boy or a girl?_ Each time, she gave the same negative answer.

And each night after such a visit, she would be plagued unceasingly by that nightmare.

Sometimes Lee stood next to their daughter's bed, silent, his eyes full of accusation.

She clung stubbornly, desperately, to the thought that as long as she was still pregnant, as long as her baby was inside her, she could protect it.

But today, appraising herself in profile during Leoben's sudden and unexpected absence, Kara was visited by the distinct sense that time was running out.

She was growing large. Large enough that she had submitted, some time ago, to wearing the new clothes Leoben had brought for her. Even those were growing tight. She couldn't sleep on her back anymore. Her arms wouldn't fit all the way around her abdomen. The baby did more squirming now than kicking, although the hiccups hadn't seemed to diminish in the slightest. She was having difficulty moving around, maneuvering in the shower, tying her own shoes.

Kara associated all of these things with the last and most uncomfortable stage of pregnancy, and she remembered them from her son, though thinking of Will was hard, and left her struggling to empty herself of emotion.

How much time did she have?

She pulled up her shirt slightly, even more thankful that Leoben wasn't here.

Her navel was poking out, just slightly.

A month, perhaps? Maybe two at the outside?

She swallowed, and her eyes slid closed as she sucked in a breath.

She'd been four months along, almost five, when she had come down to New Caprica. It seemed like a lot of time had passed since then. But she just couldn't tell _how much_.

The idea of giving birth in the presence of the Cylons, especially Leoben and Simon, was almost too disgusting to contemplate.

A key turned in the lock.

Kara jerked her head up.

She was supposed to be setting the table. _Supposed to_ , like she was some kind of frakkin' _kid_. Like she was still —

Kara stopped that thought in its tracks, before it could go any further.

Instead she picked up a fork from where she'd put it down on the cloth.

Would it work?

Was it enough?

She held it between thumb and forefinger, scrutinizing it, examining the silver, the way the sunlight glinted off it.

Forks had tines.

Tines were sharp.

Experimentally Kara ran her thumb over them, and pretended not to see her wedding ring, glinting on the same hand.

No.

Something else, then.

The door swung open and footsteps thumped down the stairs.

By the time he entered the common room, she was ready.

***

Lee rose to the surface of a sound sleep, blinking in the darkness.

The clock by his bedside indicated it was several hours before he needed to rise.

His arm slid halfway to the other side of the bed before he remembered Kara wasn't there.

She hadn't been there for four months now.

Still, he inched over, hand sweeping the space where she should have been, where warmth should have remained, until his fingers touched her pillow. He tugged at it, pulled, and it came easily — _too_ easily, but he wouldn't think about that — until he could drape it over himself, just under his chin.

Kara liked to lie there, tucked into his chest, his arm around her shoulder. She'd said he was more comfortable than any pillow. But she used her pillow too, because Kara tended to be a restless sleeper. Actually, Lee thought, "restless sleeper" didn't quite cover it. She slept like an eggbeater. He had grown used to it, though, the constant tossing and turning in the middle of the night. After a while he found he couldn't sleep without it. That probably explained why he'd briefly turned into an insomniac after the invasion of New Caprica.

Well, that and many other reasons.

When he returned to their quarters from sickbay after the shooting on _Cloud Nine_ , he had repaid the favour. The location of the healing gunshot wound meant that it was often impossible to find a comfortable position, or stay in that position once it had been found, and so Lee had often been reduced to shifting around incessantly during the night. In the early days at least, even the simplest of motions had also required Kara's assistance, and he'd felt horribly guilty about poking her awake numerous times to facilitate a repositioning. But she never complained, not once, not even despite the fact that she was still nursing Will at that point and therefore getting up with him too. She never even glared or rolled her eyes or sighed. And in the end, one of the only sleeping positions that worked for Lee on a consistent basis was his head pillowed on her shoulder, one of her arms wrapped around him so he didn't inadvertently jostle himself. It helped him physically, but he'd also loved falling asleep to the sound of her heartbeat, as sure a reminder as any that he was still alive, that he'd survived.

Now, of course, he was completely healed, the pain and difficulty of that time merely a distant memory.

An entirely new pain had replaced it.

The warm weight of the pillow on his chest was reassuring, but not nearly enough. Not nearly the same as having _her_ there.

He brought the pillow up further, until it was pressed against his cheek. Almost none of her scent remained, but Lee could still perceive what little there was, and he inhaled deeply. It was almost, _almost_ like having her there.

Almost, but not quite.

What was she doing now? Right now?

Sleeping, probably, if it was night on New Caprica like it was here. Or had the insomnia of advanced pregnancy struck her? She'd had difficulty with that while expecting Will, he remembered, and she had complained bitterly about it. So maybe she was pacing her tent, or wherever, cursing him and wishing he could be there so she could chew his ear off about it.

 _I wish you were here too._

Kara would be eight months along now. Everyone would know she was pregnant. Everyone would be able to see that she was having his child, another of his children. It'd be hard for her to walk around, hard for her to stand for long periods of time, hard to sit, hard on her back. If she was here she'd spend half her time bugging him to massage it, and the other half would be spent in ordering him to massage her feet. She would drive him up the wall with demands and complaints.

 _I bet you're beautiful right now. I bet you're so beautiful it hurts._

And the baby … the baby would be doing more squirming now than kicking. Close quarters bred inactivity even for the unborn. She or he would be hunkering down, putting on weight in preparation for entrance into the world. But she'd hear her mother's voice. Hopefully she would know, on some instinctive level, that her mother loved her. That her father and brother loved her, and couldn't wait to meet her.

 _I'm sure you're already giving your mama trouble. Kicking her at all hours of the day and night, jamming your feet in her ribcage … your brother used to like to do that. Mama says you're a boy too, but this time, I really do think she's wrong. I think you'll be a little girl, and I think I'm gonna spoil you rotten. Gods, I want you to be a girl. I know I'm just supposed to say I want you to be healthy, and I do … frak it, I_ do _… but I want a little girl. I want a daughter. Little girls aren't real popular in the Adama family. We don't have many of 'em. But that's why you'd be extra special. I know you would. Hell, you already are._

He breathed deeply, sensing his composure starting to waver.

 _But what I really want … what I really want more than anything else in the worlds right now is for you to come home safe. I want you and your mama right here beside me. I want to see both of you, and I want to hold you, and hug you, and tell you how much I've missed you. Because I do miss you. I miss you so frakking much right now —_

When Lee pulled the pillow away from his cheek, it was wet.

He might finally have lost it then, might at last have given in to the avalanche of emotion that the internal monologues had stirred up, if it hadn't been for a sudden shout from the next room.

At first Lee thought he'd imagined it, or maybe that he'd fallen back to sleep and was dreaming it, but then the sound came again, and it was a scream.

" _Mama, no!_ "

He flung the pillow aside and vaulted from the bed, scrambling as quickly as he could into the next room. His son wasn't yet awake, but was tossing restlessly in his own bed, his features scrunched up in a frown, hair drenched with sweat. Lee hesitated for the barest of seconds — Will's nightmares were usually more Kara's department than his — before sitting carefully on the bed and pulling the boy into his arms.

"Will, it's only a bad dream, okay? Wake up, it's just a dream."

Will came awake with a jolt, so suddenly that Lee was almost startled too. "Daddy," he whispered, and promptly burst into tears.

Lee did his best, though he wasn't sure he was actually doing any good. "Buddy, it's all right, it wasn't real. You're safe now, the monsters can't get you. You're okay." He boosted his son up onto his shoulder, gently rocking him back and forth the way he'd seen Kara do once.

"No monsters," Will hiccupped after a moment.

'That's right, there are no monsters here. I promise."

The boy shook his head. " _Mama!_ "

"Mama's not here … remember?" Lee forced himself to say. "She's down on the planet with Uncle Sam."

Will stared at his father through tear-filled eyes, and shook his head from side to side again. "Bad man," he said quietly.

"What?"

"Bad man get Mama."

"In your dream?"

"No." Will was speaking with such quiet certainty that Lee felt suddenly chilled. "Unca Sam say bad man gonna get Mama. We gotta leave the tent."

Lee sucked in a breath. "What did you say?"

"He tooked Mama."

" _Who_ did? One of the — the bad guys?"

His son didn't answer, though, choosing instead to burrow more securely into his arms with a shudder.

Lee's mind was racing. How much faith could he put in Will's words? The boy was only a little over two years old, and there was every possibility that he might have misconstrued events in the confusion of the Cylon attacks. He'd been so frightened afterwards that it was easy to imagine that confusion causing him to perceive people and things that weren't there. Little kids were supposed to have such good imaginations, and a talent for keeping their parents entertained with wild stories.

But _this_ story didn't exactly entertain him.

What if Will was right?

Maybe he was crazy for even considering the possibility.

Then again, maybe not.

Suppose Lee's hopeful mental image of Kara spearheading a resistance to the Cylons was simply optimistic fallacy? Suppose the toasters had known, somehow, that she was on the planet and had seen fit to remove her from the population? Smart machines, but he sure didn't want to think about Kara alone and pregnant in a jail cell. Or worse, giving birth in that same jail cell.

 _Godsdammit, this wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen!_

"Daddy?" Will said softly.

He took a breath, let it out slowly. "What is it, buddy?"

"We get Mama back," the boy answered decisively, parroting what his father had said. Then, after a beat: "You not cry."

Furtively Lee wiped his eyes, embarrassment beginning to colour his cheeks. "I'm — I'll be fine, I just —"

"You miss Mama anna baby."

"Yeah," he choked out weakly. "Yeah, that's right. Just like you do."

"They come back." Will brightened. "G'apa help! He said!"

"I'm sure Grandpa will help." Lee ruffled his son's hair. "Look, you, um … you want to come sleep in my bed until it's time to get up? How about that?"

The two-year-old's brow furrowed. "Mama say no."

"Yeah, she probably would say no," Lee nodded, frowning. "But you know what?"

"What?"

He pretended to glance all around the room, and then bent forward to whisper in his son's ear. "Mama's not here right now, is she?"

Will giggled and grinned. " _No!_ "

"Then let's do it. Walk on the wild side, huh?" Lee stood and boosted the boy onto his hip. "Just us guys."

"No girls allowed!" Will bellowed.

"Exactly!" He paused, looking nervously around again, then pressed a finger to his lips. "We should probably be quiet, though. Just in case somebody hears and tries to tell."

" _No girls allowed_ ," whispered Will, and they laughed together as they headed to the other bedroom.

***

The apartment was too warm.

She wanted to take off her dressing gown.

She wanted to remove it and go into the next room and find him on the bed. She wanted to see that surprised little-boy look he got sometimes, that she'd spotted first on Colonial Day with a bar and a blue dress and emotions that seemed as though they belonged in an earlier age, to a different Kara Thrace.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to touch him.

She wanted him to touch her.

 _He'd smile, grin, pull her on top of him, drift one of his hands over the swell of her pregnancy …_

Her hand slid downwards, inside the gown's folds …

 _… and she would bend to kiss him, to taste him, shaking her head slightly if he tried to pull away, just wanting to be close, to feel …_

She was wet already, had been so since she changed her clothes, imagining Lee's mouth, imagining him slipping off her shirt, lifting her hair off the nape of her neck, pressing his kisses there …

 _… and as ever he'd understand, and kiss her for as long as she wanted it, his hand on her face, light glinting off his wedding ring, and she'd smile because she would know what it meant, that he was hers …_

She slid her palm across moist curls, just _feeling_ , letting herself slip into her body for a singular moment, temporarily shedding the cold detachment she wore like a glove. Last time she'd had Lee to help her, had had his scent to reassure her as he attended to the arousal created by her last pregnancy … _no, don't think about that_ …

 _… and he couldn't ignore her breasts, no, of course not — Lee being Lee — he sought them out, pulled her closer to lick at a nipple as they toppled over together, laughing, actually laughing, before he stroked her, ran a smooth hand along her back, touching her the way he had in their first blissful days of marriage, when every caress seemed brand-new …_

She lingered over her clit, caressing squeezing prodding, trying desperately to keep her face expressionless as she did … they were watching her, she was sure of it (and what a godsdamned _stupid_ place to be feeling like this, with a dead Cylon on the floor and the downloaded version surely on his way) … but there was nothing for it; she _needed_ this …

 _… he knew, too, knew even before she said a word, knew by the way she was pressing into him, her ass against his front the way they'd done it before, that she needed him, and she'd just opened her mouth to demand he get his act together when he pushed inside with a sudden sharp thrust, and she cried out, any regret she might have felt at not being able to see his face rapidly erased by the pace he was setting …_

She could set her own pace, too, and she did, poking two fingers into darkness, and it was almost enough, _almost_ … she could _feel_ again, she was _alive_ , godsdammit … and almost there — right —

The lock clicked.

Kara jerked her hand away.

Brushed a strand of hair back.

Panted one breath — two — but that was all she could afford.

It scared her, how easily the mask slipped over her features again.

Pressure burned within her, unfulfilled, but she could not, _would not_ , give him the satisfaction.

"Honey, I'm home!"

The baby kicked.

Kara swallowed, retied her dressing gown.

Gripped a handle in her pocket.

The toaster came down the stairs, giving his dead body a cursory glance before stepping over it and heading directly for the couch. Kara's lungs were screaming for oxygen, but she breathed slowly, in and out, as though she'd been doing nothing other than sitting there for the last number of hours, staring into space.

She forced herself not to remember her husband's face as Leoben began to speak.

"You kill me, I download, I come back, we start over." He sat on the couch, clasping his hands in front of him. "Five times now."

She said nothing. The kid kicked her again, ribs this time, and it was an effort not to flinch.

"I'm trying to help you, Kara," Leoben said with a sigh. "I only want you to see the truth of your life, the reason why you suffered and you struggled for so long. That's why God sent me to you. That's why God wants us to be together. All right?"

 _So to show me the reason why I suffered and struggled, you make me suffer and struggle_ more _by killing my child?_

 _See this ring on my finger? Yeah, that means you're too godsdamned late. Better luck next time._

Comebacks both snarky and truthful sprang to her lips, but she chose the emotionless mask instead.

Kara forced her lips into what she hoped was a soft smile. Kept gripping the handle inside her pocket. "You're right. You're right." Her voice sounded rusty, disused. "And I hear you, I do. So thank you. Thank you for putting up with me."

Started to slide the handle free.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

But he wasn't looking at her. He probably hadn't heard a single word she'd said. His eyes were fixed instead on a movement she'd believed too infinitesimal to be noticed, the motion of her hand as it slowly withdrew the knife.

"Put it down, Kara." The words were gentle, but with an aura of command behind them. "Just put it down."

And suddenly she could see what he could: the knife, in her pocket, so close to her abdomen. He could grab it, stab her, likely not enough to kill her, but certainly enough to do some damage. Her stomach clenched unpleasantly. He'd do it, too. He was such a sick frak, he wouldn't care about hurting the baby, wouldn't care even though he'd said he had other plans.

The knife dropped to the carpet, point down.

"I'm a patient man," Leoben told her.

"You're not a man," she spat.

"I'm willing to wait. You just need more time."

"I don't need more frakkin' _time_ ," Kara snapped. "It's never gonna happen."

"Of course it's gonna happen," the skinjob said smugly, and what scared her was that he sounded more certain in this than of anything else. "You're gonna hold me in your arms, you're gonna embrace me, you're gonna tell me that you love me. I've seen it."

She jerked away, back onto the couch. "You're insane."

 _You are beyond insane!_

Another lifetime. Another person.

"To know the face of God is to know madness," replied Leoben serenely. He rose, bending to pick up the discarded knife. "I'm going to bed. Be nice if you joined me."

Kara snorted. Didn't look at him.

"Either way, you're spending the night with me." The toaster smirked and gestured to the body on the floor. "I do love you, Kara Thrace. Good night."

 _I love you, Kara. I know what happened and I don't care. I don't care. It wasn't your fault._

She squeezed her eyes shut against her husband's voice. It was so clear, in her mind. But then again, Lee had always been able to see through the mask. See through to the parts of herself she didn't want to acknowledge.

The baby squirmed again, rolling and twisting, and Kara gratefully jerked herself back to the present. Sealed the mask ever tighter. She looked towards the dead skinjob on the floor. Someone would come and collect it soon enough. The process would begin all over again.

 _All of this has happened before, and all of it will happen again._

Except for one fairly glaring fact: it _wasn't_ supposed to happen like this. She was _supposed_ to be up on _Pegasus_ , not locked in this frakking dollhouse with a psychotic, infatuated Cylon as her warden.

Locked.

 _Locked._

A bubble of hope surged its way abruptly past the mask.

Had he remembered?

Maybe, maybe, _maybe_ , for once he had slipped up. The downloading had clogged his circuitry and all that.

Kara maneuvered herself off the couch, resentment again coursing through her that Lee wasn't present, that he wasn't able to help her as he'd done when she'd been pregnant with — _no, don't think about that don't think about that_ — and she pushed it aside and hugged the wall, slipping carefully toward the stairs, bare feet sliding across the carpet. She didn't have time to grab shoes or even change. But that could wait. Everything could wait if there was actually a way, if she was actually getting out of here …

She shouldn't think that way.

Then again, why not?

These toasters hadn't figured on her escaping the Farm, but she'd done that, and while pregnant, too. ( _Don't think about that don't think about that don't think about that!_ ) If she could escape a mental hospital, she could certainly escape _this_ place.

Yes.

She _would_.

Kara gained the stairs without further fanfare and hurried up, one hand clutching the railing, the other around her abdomen.

The door was unlocked.

 _Yes._

The door was unlocked.

She couldn't stop the fierce joy from radiating through her now, the first she'd allowed herself to feel in months. Ever since —

 _Don't think about that don't think about that don't think —_

Kara tugged on the doorknob and it gave easily. She peered around it, looking into what seemed to be a hallway. An ordinary, blank white alcove, with neither Cylons nor humans in sight.

Okay.

This she could handle.

The door eased shut behind her.

She started forward.

And almost brained herself on a set of thick metal bars, placed directly across the exit to the alcove, widely spaced enough that she could slip a hand through, but nothing more, not in her current condition.

When it exploded, the bubble of hope sprayed fallout.

 _Her son, crying, struggling as Leoben pushed a needle into his neck —_

 _Her daughter, consigned to fate and Cylon reproduction —_

 _Her husband, unreachable and equally unable to return —_

The bars made it clear.

She wasn't getting out.

Kara might have shouted something, might in fact have screamed at the top of her lungs, but she could not hear herself.

She still needed a plan.

But the only plan she could think of was no plan at all.

 _Please, please, Lords, don't let it come to that._

But it would.

In a little more than a month, if her body was correct.

" _Let us out! Let us out of here, we don't belong here! Let us out!_ "

No one answered.

The baby convulsed inside her, startled.

 _Her dream the girl with wires coming out pleading begging toasters inside her —_

She drifted her hand downward.

 _I'm not going back to one of those Farms. I'm_ not _._

Kara's head thunked against the bars.

 _You and me, we gotta have an agreement._

Bile rose in her throat, and she gasped in one breath, then another. This would have been easier if she couldn't feel her child moving. If she didn't know exactly what she was promising.

 _You do me, I do you._

If they didn't come back … if the baby was born here …

 _You do me._

I do you.


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second verse same as the first: this keeps on with the slightly disturbing themes, so forewarned is forearmed.

"Daddy, lookit!"

Lee settled himself on the Admiral's couch just in time to see his son barrel out from behind the desk, clutching a plastic model of a Viper that seemed to have come from _Galactica_ 's strategy table. The boy ran rapidly and unsteadily, giving every appearance that he was going to collide with his father's leg, but at the last second Will stopped himself and came to rest with his hands on Lee's knees.

"You fly!" the child proclaimed, handing over the Viper.

"Yeah, I used to fly these," Lee nodded, suppressing a sigh. He had little doubt as to the identity of the person who'd given Will the model. "Did you have fun with Grandpa this afternoon?"

"He certainly did," a third voice answered from the doorway, and they turned to see Bill stepping over the threshold to the sitting area. "We visited the chart room and played around with a few of the models there. I gave him one he could keep." A smile peeked out from beneath the elder's mustache.

"And told him some stories, I'm guessing," said Lee, hoisting Will into his arms and dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

"I might've let a few slip. You and Kara have both had pretty impressive careers so far; he should know about your accomplishments."

"Yours too, right?" Kara would have been proud of him; he'd successfully kept the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Mine too."

"Dad, we … we're both kind of agreed that we don't want him to be a pilot. Or at least that we don't want him to feel pressured just because of who his parents are." So saying, Lee ducked, the model Viper having narrowly averted a head-on crash with the side of his skull. "Careful, buddy, we don't throw," he cautioned Will.

"What if it's what _he_ wants?" Bill paused by his desk to gather a stack of folders. "He's an Adama, Lee. Flying's in his blood from two generations."

"I'm aware of that." Lee grabbed for his son's arm to prevent further problems. "It's just, Zak is still very fresh in our minds, and we'd rather not actively encourage Will to fly. That's all."

The elder Adama chose to ignore this comment, addressing himself directly to his grandson. "What do you say, kid? You wanna fly like Grandpa?"

Will grinned and bounced, brandishing the Viper. "Fly in the sky!"

Bill mirrored the boy's smile. "You see?"

Lee ran a hand tiredly through his hair. "Dad, he's _two_."

"So?"

"So, ask me again when he's reached the age of eighteen and can presumably make reliable decisions for himself."

"Down!" Will commanded, and his father obediently set him on his feet.

"He's looking happier," Bill observed a moment later as he sat on the couch, depositing the folders between them.

Lee swallowed and forced a smile as he followed the Admiral's gaze to where Will was rocketing around the confined space like an atom in an atom smasher, his arm held out beside him so he could "fly" his model plane.

"He is. We have our good days and bad days. He still has nightmares, and I'm not sure when I'll wean him off sleeping in my bed or get him out of diapers, but he's doing better." Lee cleared his throat, awkwardly. "The only — the only thing is that, you know, he _is_ so much happier … so I'm wondering if that means he's starting to forget Kara. I wonder if he'll remember she's his mother when … this is over."

"I don't think that's possible," Bill said simply. "He talks about her all the time when I'm with him. Every second sentence out of his mouth starts with 'Mama said this' or 'Mama did that.' He knows who she is, and he misses her. But he also knows that talking about her upsets you."

"Does he?"

"Yes, and so I think he avoids it when he's with you. He wants so badly to please you, Lee. Reminds me of another young boy I used to know." The older man winked.

"Zak, or me?" Lee asked before he could stop himself.

"Zak did look up to both myself and to you," his father acknowledged. "More to you, I think. But I was talking about you. Will acts exactly the way you did when you were two. Except when he's acting like his mother, of course."

"Right." Lee sighed, wishing Bill hadn't added that last remark. "Will, watch the — watch the lamp, you don't want to knock it over!"

The boy paused, his right hand inches from the lamp in question. "Why?"

"Because then it'll break, and Grandpa might not want us to come over anymore, will he?"

"Oh." Will contemplated that for the barest of seconds before starting right back up again and zooming to the opposite end of the room.

"He'll be a pilot, mark my words," Bill laughed. "All that extra energy will need an outlet."

"Whatever you say, Dad," Lee muttered, not feeling particularly inclined to pursue that line of discussion any longer. Instead he picked up one of the folders lying next to them on the couch. "So, you wanted me here to discuss the training run this morning?"

"Yeah, they did it sixteen and a half times and they still haven't got it right." The Admiral sighed and rubbed his closed eyelids with the tips of his thumbs. "They do the first series of maneuvers after the release of the drones bang-on, but it's what comes after that that concerns me. Kat had to end the run this morning after Molar clipped another bird. They're stressed-out, fatigued. But if we can't do this in a training scenario, I don't know how the hell we're supposed to pull it off with Cylon Raiders on our asses."

Lee pursed his lips. "Have you considered that maybe they're just not working hard enough?"

"Not working hard enough?" Bill seemed caught off-guard.

"Sir, we're at half-strength right now — not even that, actually — which means that the officers who remain should be pulling double and triple shifts at the very _least_ in order to have a hope of compensating. But all I hear when I listen to the practice transmissions is people whining and complaining about how hard it is. Well, guess what, it's gonna get a lot harder. And we aren't going to be able to pull our pilots back if the ride gets bumpy during the mission to New Caprica. We'll get _one_ shot at beating the toasters and _one_ shot at rescuing the people trapped down there, and there won't be any do-overs if we screw up, just a really fancy fireworks show! And if that happens, _everybody's_ dead!"

"This is about Kara, isn't it?" The older man rested a placating hand on his son's shoulder.

"I never said it was about Kara!" Lee realized how loudly he'd been speaking, and cleared his throat, attempting to moderate his tone. "Well, it _is_ , but it's also about looking at the big picture. With respect, Admiral, the invasion of New Caprica caught us because we didn't face facts. This isn't a time for ignoring them again. If the _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_ pooled their squadrons we'd probably have a viable air group, but what then? We jump in, we take out the basestars in orbit — _somehow_ — but there's absolutely nothing to stop the toasters on the surface from calling in the reserves. There just wouldn't be enough time. And I'm willing to bet you all the money in the Twelve Colonies that the Cylons have removed the launch keys from the ships on the planet anyway. It's what I'd do if I were them. So even supposing we _could_ get rid of the baseships long enough to breathe a little easier, we'd have no way of taking the colonists off New Caprica. Which of course assumes that they're all still there in the first place. The Cylons might have —"

But he couldn't say it.

He _couldn't_.

"I think they're alive," Bill said quietly.

"Has the communications Raptor picked up any signals?"

The Admiral looked down, his silence eloquent.

Lee seized it. "So how do you _know?_ How do you know with one hundred percent certainty that the toasters haven't taken the planet for themselves?"

"I don't. But neither do I believe that Colonel Tigh, or Chief Tyrol, or _Kara_ , for that matter, would just up and submit to the Cylons. They're made of sterner stuff than that. And I don't believe the Cylons' first objective would be to kill them, either. They know we're still out here, and they know we wouldn't let that rest."

"Sir, I'm not sure how accurate that is," Lee blurted out.

Bill blinked. "Which part?"

"That none of the colonists would submit to the Cylons. They might not _want_ to, but it's equally true that they might not have a choice."

"So you recommend establishing ground reconnaissance before we jump in there?"

"Yes, sir. It's the only responsible thing to do."

"It would be a challenge." The Admiral stroked his mustache, thinking. "We'd have to select someone appropriate, and do it in a very short time. And it would have to be someone who could infiltrate the settlement without being detected. Minus a reliable contact like Tigh or Kara, I'm not sure that's a risk I can take."

"Admiral, you asked me to follow my instincts, I'm doing that, and I think attention should be paid. This is _not_ a mission we can afford to mess up on. It's like I told Laura Roslin when the Cylons first attacked. If we lose, we lose _everything_."

"We won't lose, son." Bill squeezed Lee's shoulder. "And we'll get Kara back. I promise."

"That's —" His breath caught. "That's what I keep telling Will."

"With good reason."

Lee paused, listening. "Dad, wait a sec. It's too quiet."

"Too quiet?"

"Too damn quiet, he's up to something." The younger man rose from the couch, squinted into the narrow space behind it, and then headed across to where he'd last seen his child. "Will? Buddy, what are you doing?"

No response. Lee knew Will couldn't have gotten far — the hatches were dogged and secured, and their rusty hinges required more strength to open than a two-year-old possessed — but that didn't mean he wasn't doing something he shouldn't. There was any number of objects in the room that a toddler could break, mangle, lose, or use to hurt himself in some way.

 _Dammit, I should have been watching him more closely! What the hell is wrong with me?_

"Will, tell me where you are, please!"

 _But how can I watch him and be on duty at the same frakking time? It just doesn't work!_

"Mess," said a small voice from behind the Admiral's desk.

Lee peered around the piece of furniture in question and squeezed his eyes briefly shut, trying to summon up patience. His son was sitting on the floor surrounded by what looked like every book, magazine and newspaper in Bill Adama's possession, and a few that looked like they might have belonged to Laura Roslin. The shelf directly beside Will was bare, and the boy had just started tugging reading material from the one above it, pulling books down, scattering them, arranging them so that they lay open and upside-down. No pages were torn out, but this was bad enough.

"I make a mess!" Will announced proudly.

 _Well, at least he's honest._

"You certainly did." Lee wrinkled his nose. "In more ways than one. Let's get you cleaned up first, and then we'll worry about Grandpa's books."

"No pictures," frowned Will as his father picked him up.

"Well, those are books for grownups like Grandpa and me. If you wanted to look at his books, you should have asked him first. We always ask, right?"

"Lee, it's okay," Bill spoke up from his position on the couch, where he'd been watching the proceedings with a small smile. "Those things were in a completely random order anyway. I don't even remember what some of them were."

"Dad, I know, but we're trying to teach him to _respect_ other people's property, not destroy it." Lee retrieved the duffel bag of diaper supplies from beside the couch. "Look, is it all right if we use your head for a minute? I'll leave the hatch open so we can keep talking."

"We steal G'apa's _head?_ " Will exclaimed before his grandfather could answer. He looked slightly alarmed.

At that Lee couldn't suppress a chuckle. "No, buddy, 'head' is another word for 'washroom,' remember?"

"And Grandpa's head doesn't come off," added Bill dryly.

They laughed, and it felt good, it felt right, it felt normal — until Kara again strayed into Lee's thoughts.

Even to smile was an effort now.

***

She wanted to abandon her body.

She wanted to step out of it, download like a Cylon, and redirect herself into a state of physical being that did not remind her every day of the promise she had made.

Her uterus was contracting now. Not with the pains that signaled oncoming labour — she knew _those_ , and feared them. No, these were practice motions, the muscle exercising itself in preparation for the work it would have to do. To Kara they were simply one more portend, along with swollen ankles and simultaneous insomnia and exhaustion, of the fact that time was rapidly running out.

Leoben faced her, seated on the couch as before. The bastard was always unabashedly serene, unfailingly polite. Like a parent correcting a wayward child. He kept babbling on about possibilities and potential. He kept saying how much potential he saw in her.

 _Right now the only potential I have is the potential to kill you._

The idea cheered her, but not enough.

 _I want to kill you,_ really _kill you. I want to kill you like you are killing me._

It was impossible, of course.

She tuned briefly back into Leoben's monologue just in time to hear him say, "It's been a couple of ugly days. I know you don't care about that, but life means something to us."

He was staring at her abdomen; she resisted the urge to clasp it protectively.

"So life means so damn much to you that you would kill an innocent child?" Kara sneered. "But then again, after the whole of humanity, I guess one two-year-old rugrat doesn't matter anymore, huh?"

Nausea gutpunched her, Will's face floating into her mind.

"I already told you, God has other plans for your baby," Leoben replied smoothly. "I'm not going to kill it."

"Yeah, but my son, somehow _he_ didn't fit into your God's little plan, did he?"

"Fascinating," the toaster murmured, almost to himself. "It's been four months, yet you persist in grieving for him. The bond between mother and child …"

"Is something you'd never understand," she snapped.

"Perhaps." He gazed at her, inscrutably. He was good at that. "Kara, I am not your enemy. I want you to see that, I want you to understand that I'm merely trying to help you in the next phase of your journey. I know it isn't easy. I never claimed that it would be. And what I told you before is true. I am a patient man, and I would like to accommodate you in the best way that I can. If that means setting up as close an approximation of your former life as I can manage, so be it."

Her stomach churned as Leoben rose.

"Remember that breeding farm on Caprica?" he asked conversationally.

 _Red eyes, glowing, her daughter, screaming, wires and monitors tying her down —_

"I remember I blew the frak out of the place." Kara's smile was feral.

"It wasn't a total loss," Leoben continued, heading toward the stairs. "We were able to salvage certain things. Certain medical samples." He paused, turned around, smiled. "Like your ovary."

 _What the hell is he playing at?_

 _What the frakking hell is he playing at?_

She watched him, watched as he climbed the steps slowly and deliberately. He paused often to glance back at her, almost as though he was anticipating her reaction. Figuring that with _that_ piece of information, he'd finally jar a real emotion out of her.

Kara didn't plan to give him the satisfaction of this, either.

She was remembering something Sharon had told her on Caprica, about the Farms and why they'd failed, every single time.

 _Procreation is one of God's commandments: be fruitful. We can't fulfill it. We've tried._

 _They have this theory that maybe the one thing they were missing was love_ , Helo had added. _So Sharon and I, we were set up to fall in love._

Kara snorted in disgust. Leoben might think he could accomplish the same thing here, but she did not see it. Even Sharon had admitted later that the nature of love was inherently unpredictable: her assignment to conceive a child had been just that, an assignment, and the Cylon hadn't bargained on falling so deeply in love with Karl in the process.

Light glinted off her wedding ring.

The baby kicked.

 _These things are love._

The door of the apartment creaked open again. Kara slammed her mask into place.

Leoben descended the stairs.

He wasn't alone this time.

His arms were clasped around a little girl, a toddler, whose blonde hair cascaded in ringlets around her face and who was busily sucking at her thumb. She couldn't have been more than two. Maybe a little older, but it was hard to tell. Kara's recollection of how old kids were supposed to look had a rather definite end point.

"What's that?" Kara asked with another snort.

"This is Kacey." Leoben's benevolent smile had returned in full force. To the girl he said, "Kacey, this is Kara. Your mother."

***

"Daddy!"

"Just a minute, okay? Let your uncle talk."

"But _Daddy_ —!"

"Will, what did I tell you before we came in here?"

" _Daddy, I wanna_ —"

"Will, _please_. Let's just listen for now. This is important."

Across the room, Helo cleared his throat.

Lee sighed. "Sorry, Karl. Go on."

The other man allowed himself a smile before returning to the paper in his hand. "Their numbers are a little thin. It says here Tigh commands one thousand one hundred and fifty armed effectives. That's a lot less than he should have if you count all former Fleet officers and enlisted available down there."

"We could be taking heavy losses," Dee murmured. "They mentioned a Cylon crackdown."

"We should get a breakdown of available pilots in the insurgent group," put in Kat. "Somebody's gotta fly those ships off the ground if we're gonna pull this off."

The Admiral shook his head. "Those ships aren't going anywhere yet. 'The Cylons have removed launch keys from grounded Colonial ships. Location unknown.' Came from Tyrol."

"Can we manufacture new launch keys?" Kat asked.

"Forget it." Lee spoke with effort, trying to keep his arms around his struggling son. "The specs on launch keys are — incredibly sophisticated. It would take weeks just to do the R&D. _Will, we don't hit_ ," he added to the squirming toddler.

" _Want that!_ " Will shrieked, pointing to a bowl in the middle of the coffee table.

"I told you already, that's a grownup food. You can have the crackers I brought for you if you're hungry."

" _No no no no no!_ "

Kat was scowling. "Does he have to be here?"

"Yeah, actually, he does. Do _you?_ " Lee knew he was being rude, but he couldn't help himself. Lack of sleep did that to a person.

"All right, all right," Bill interrupted with a stern look at each of them. "I know it's been a long day, but let's at least try to be civil to each other. Now, as far as the ships go, the best option is for Saul and the people on the ground to find the original launch keys."

"Assuming they weren't destroyed," Dee said.

Kat shot another venomous look at Lee and Will, then turned her attention back to the topic at hand. "No, no way. The Cylons would want to keep them safe just in case they needed to use one of those ships someday."

"She's right," Helo nodded. "Keys gotta still be there somewhere."

" _Daddy, I want those!_ " Will was tuning up again.

Lee felt what remained of his patience beginning to dribble away. "I know you want the nuts, but you can't have them. They are for adults. I have these crackers here you can eat, okay?"

" _NO!_ "

"Will, if you're hungry —"

" _Those taste like barf!_ "

He thought he heard someone stifle a snicker from across the room, though he couldn't tell who it was. Likely a good thing, as he probably would have pulled a Kara and punched them in the face if he'd known.

Lee's moment of inattention was all it took for Will to wiggle from his grasp and drop to the floor, where the boy promptly struck out for the coffee table. He was _fast_ , too, faster than Lee, despite the fact that the latter was twice his size. In what seemed like three seconds — less than that — Will had gained the table and was reaching for the nuts. Lee could only lunge forward and wrap his arm tightly around his son, straining to hold him closer.

" _Gimme!_ " Will shouted at the top of his lungs.

That was the last straw for Kat. "With all due respect, _Commander_ , we are _trying_ to hold a serious briefing here, a briefing which may in fact have a lot to do with us rescuing your _wife_ , and if there's anything I thought you'd pay attention to —"

"Don't push it, _Captain_ ," Lee said very quietly.

"That's enough, Kat," Bill cut in, his Admiral's tone leaving no room for discussion. "Lee, is there anyone else who could take him until we finish this briefing?"

"Want that want that _want that!_ " the toddler screamed.

"Sir, I don't — he won't —" _Go to anyone else since Kara disappeared_ , Lee wanted to finish. But the words lodged in his throat. He couldn't say _disappeared_. He _couldn't_.

 _Kara, godsdammit, why the hell can't you be here?_

She'd always been better at dealing with temper tantrums, just like she'd always been better at throwing them.

Lee supposed it took one to know one.

But that didn't do much for his current problem. It would likely have been quite manageable if both he and Will had had more sleep, and perhaps if they were better fed, and if the situation at hand wasn't full of such urgency. But they hadn't, and they weren't, and it was, and he found himself fresh out of ideas on how to handle a full-blown tantrum.

"For gods' sake," Kat muttered over Will's screaming.

"Look, I'm _sorry_ ," Lee snapped, fully aware that he didn't sound very sorry. "But _you_ try taking care of a kid on your own with less than two hours' sleep and see how you like —"

"Lee." A soft hand landed on his shoulder; Dee had somehow managed to sneak up behind him.

" _What?_ "

She was unfazed by his tone. "If I'm not needed at the briefing anymore, I can take him until you're finished here."

Lee laughed mirthlessly, fully and uncomfortably aware all of this was being conducted with fellow officers watching. "Dee, the only person he really wants is five thousand k's away, so I don't think —"

"Let me try." Dee offered a warm smile and a squeeze to his shoulder before bending to address Will. Lee collected himself long enough to listen, wondering what she planned to do, knowing he'd probably have to take his son out of there anyway, because Kat was right about one thing: this _was_ an important briefing, crucial to getting Kara and the baby back.

And everyone else, of course. Lee shook himself mentally for not automatically adding the rest of the colonists.

Dee was stroking Will's hair, speaking softly to him, and Lee wouldn't have put much stock in her technique … but for the fact that it was _working_. His son's shouts and mingled sobs were quieting, and Will was nodding enthusiastically at something Dee had said.

"I want those," the boy said, and reached toward the nuts, but Dee swiftly deflected him, clasping her fingers gently about his wrist.

"I know you do, but I have an even better idea." She smiled conspiratorially. "Have you ever seen your grandpa's photo album?"

"Pictures?" Will drew a hand across his eyes, still pouting. Lee could tell he was interested, though.

"Lots and lots of pictures," Dee nodded. "Pictures of your grandpa, and your dad, and even your uncle Zak …"

A tentative smile found its way to Will's lips. "Mama?"

"Mama too. Would you like to come look at them with me?"

Will looked quickly, almost nervously, at his father, and Lee nodded.

"Go on, buddy. I'll be right in here, I promise."

Dee offered her hand, and after a slight hesitation, the boy took it, allowing her to lead him into the next room and shut the hatch securely behind them.

Lee glared around at the room in general for a moment, looking from face to face, daring someone to say something, daring Kat in particular.

All were silent.

Somehow the sudden lack of opposition made all the fight go out of him, especially when he made eye contact with Karl and saw only sympathy, sympathy and a gentle note of understanding.

Lee suddenly felt even more tired.

"Sorry," he mumbled simply. "Let's, um … let's keep going, all right?"

Kat immediately picked up the folder in front of her. "We can make a weapons drop to the insurgents," she suggested, like nothing had happened. "They know the lay of the land, they've been hitting the Cylons in the teeth for months. Give them the tools, they can find the keys themselves."

Lee suppressed a groan, knowing he'd have to argue with her yet again. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. The only thing you've got going for you so far is that the Cylons reduced their defense perimeter to just five baseships. You put heavy weaponry down there, they're gonna know for sure that we're in contact with the population. They'll call in ten more baseships and then your whole plan's frakked."

She rolled her eyes. "Funny, thought this was _our_ plan, _sir_."

"Moving on," Bill inserted smoothly. "The military plans that you have in your hands are to be kept with you at all times."

The meeting broke up soon afterward, the officers dispersing back to their duty stations. Lee wanted so badly to just curl up on his father's couch and sleep for about a hundred years, but that looked about as likely as the Cylons throwing the two battlestars a welcome home party upon their return to New Caprica. So, with a stifled yawn, he headed instead to the next room, wondering halfheartedly how Dee was doing. Will hadn't come running back out to him, so maybe he was momentarily busy.

"So, are you sick of each other yet?" Lee joked awkwardly as the door swung open.

He was met with silence.

"Shh," Dee cautioned softly.

Her finger was pressed to her lips, and her other arm was wrapped around Will, who had fallen fast asleep in her lap.

Lee gaped.

"How the hell did you —"

"He was exhausted anyway," she chuckled. "I think I just helped things along."

"Yeah, but he _never_ goes to sleep for anybody else, not even my dad," Lee continued in an undertone. "Hell, he barely goes to sleep for _me_. He won't sleep in his own bed anymore. He seems to think I'll disappear in the middle of the night or something."

"He misses his mom a lot, that's all. But you're his parent too, and he's probably really afraid of losing you."

"I don't know." Lee sighed and sank down next to her on the couch. "I don't have the kind of bond with him that Kara does. Did. Whatever."

"But you're his father," Dee smiled kindly. "Will looks up to you just as much as Kara. I'm sure of it."

"Everybody keeps telling me that." He took a shaky breath, then another, and glanced down to the photo album next to Dee to distract himself.

It provided a distraction, but not one he might ultimately have hoped for: on the left side of the double-page spread, there was a photograph Lee remembered taking himself, about a year ago. It was of Kara and Will at Will's first birthday party, the boy perched on her hip, she mugging outrageously for the camera. The other side of the page featured a copy of a photo he knew Kara still kept in their quarters, of her with her arms around Zak, Lee standing off to the side holding a pyramid ball. He couldn't recall who'd been behind the camera, only that Kara had also been ecstatic that day, that the wide smile stretched across her face as she buried her head cheekily in Zak's shoulder was genuine. The picture had been taken two weeks after Zak proposed.

Dee was watching him. "Will likes these ones in particular. He wouldn't let me turn the page."

"She looks so _happy_ ," Lee mumbled around the clench in his throat.

"She'll be that happy again," Dee said softly. "I know she will."

He tore his eyes away from the photos, but could only stare at the floor. "You know, I … I keep telling myself I have to prepare for the worst. That when we swoop in there with a rescue party, she might not be there. She might be locked in a detention cell, she might be missing, or … godsdammit, I can't even _say_ it, but I … frak, I _think_ it all the time, and I don't want to give up on her, but …"

"She's your wife, Lee. You love her. Of course you don't want to give up on her."

"And then I think about the baby, about how she's pregnant, and I just want so badly for none of this to have ever happened." His hands balled into fists. "None of it was _supposed_ to happen. Maybe we wouldn't stay orbiting New Caprica forever, but wherever we would be — we'd be _together_. I'd get to experience her being pregnant instead of just frakking daydreaming about it. That was the way this was supposed to work. But nothing's happened the way it was supposed to."

"Lee, I think you need to let yourself grieve —"

" _She's not frakking dead yet, Dee!_ " Lee couldn't stop himself from shouting.

Will twitched in his sleep, and Lee quickly stroked his son's hair until the boy settled down again.

"I didn't say she was," Dee replied patiently. "What I mean is that I think you need to grieve for this time with her that you're missing. You haven't let yourself do that, and it's ripping you up from the inside out. She might not be dead, but she's _gone_ , and it's hard without her. Kara is one of my best friends. I miss her too."

"I can't — I can't do that." He sucked in a deep breath, and then another. "I — I have responsibilities here."

"Sure you do. But you also have a responsibility to yourself, and to your son. And you'll be no good to anyone on the _Pegasus_ or in this fleet if you've cracked up from the pressure by the time we're ready to start the rescue mission."

"But Will —"

"Will takes his cues from you," said Dee. "He knows that you're under a tremendous amount of stress. Maybe not consciously, but he knows. But what you're teaching him, by example, is that the right way to deal with your emotions is to just stuff them down inside and pretend they don't exist. I think he wants to talk about Kara, but he isn't sure if _you_ want to."

"Of _course_ I want to!"

She cocked her head. "Really? Or have you been avoiding the subject because you think it'll make you break down?"

Without meaning to, Lee looked down at the photos again. Kara, grinning, her bottom lip caught in her teeth, cheeky, their son mirroring her expression. Kara, with her arms around his baby brother, Zak smiling too, both certain at that moment of their future.

Except nothing about the future was _ever_ certain.

"Could you … could you please close that?" Lee whispered.

Dee obediently shut the photo album.

Temptation gone, memories remaining, he let his head thunk back against the couch.

"This is what I'm talking about, Lee," she told him, and her tone was not unkind. "When it comes right down to it, you avoid things you don't want to face."

"I guess — I guess I'm just like my father, huh," he mumbled, when he felt he could reliably speak.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on where you go from here. You don't _have_ to be like him. The choice is yours."

Lee kept watching Will sleep. Kept watching his son's chest rising and falling. Rising and falling.


	60. Chapter 60

"Dee, are you _sure_ about this?"

She shot him a glare that could be best described as _withering_. "We only discussed this about seventy times in the Raptor over, Lee. _Yes, I'm sure_."

"But —"

"You need a break," Dee cut in swiftly, shifting the still-sleeping Will from one shoulder to the other. "Don't even try to pretend otherwise. I'm your XO, I know everything."

"Oh, and _you_ don't need a break? I've seen the stack of actionable folders in your office, it's almost as tall as you are."

"You're supposed to be _ignoring_ those."

Lee smirked triumphantly. "I'm your Commander, I know everything."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not letting you off the hook on this one. You work twice as hard as the rest of us during your shifts and then you come back here and there's this little guy demanding all your attention. When was the last time you were actually _alone?_ "

"Look, it doesn't matter —"

"You've been avoiding that, haven't you?" Dee sighed.

 _Dammit, she's as persistent as Kara when she sets her mind to it._ Which was _definitely_ not a place he particularly wanted to go right now. "It's just — Will doesn't like it if he wakes up and I'm not there. It seems to really freak him out. I can't put that on you, to deal with one of his tantrums."

"Yes, because I never have before, isn't that right?"

It was Lee's turn to sigh. "I really am grateful for what you did this afternoon. Honestly, I am. But you've got things to do too, and it's not fair for me to keep dumping him on other people because I'm too tired to deal with him."

"Lee, you are not _dumping him on me_." Dee was looking stern again. "I am _offering_ , as your _friend_ , to take Will for a few hours so you can relax. Not work, not stand in CIC doing a shift, _relax_. I assume you still know how to do that?"

"Not lately," he muttered.

"Well, figure it out, because you're not getting him back until after dinner. He'll be fine, I promise you. And so will you."

 _Easy for you to say._

"I don't suppose there's any way I can talk you out of it?" Lee chuckled weakly.

"Nope," she said cheerfully. "Now, what are you waiting for? Get in there and take a nap yourself. Or whatever."

Resigned, he kissed the top of Will's head and backed toward the hatch of his quarters. "You'll call me, right, if —"

" _Yes_. I'll see you in a few hours, Commander."

Lee arched an eyebrow. "Is that an order?"

"You bet it is, sir." Dee winked.

The hatch swished open behind him.

It would have looked stupid not to step right through, so Lee did, and before he knew it, the doors had closed and he was staring at them blankly, not seeing them.

The room was silent.

Which was, of course, precisely the problem.

He couldn't even use paperwork as a distraction, because Dee had told him not to. Oh, he was the Commander, and technically he could do whatever he wanted, but she would notice when reports that weren't due until next week mysteriously turned up completed tomorrow. And normally Will would be running around, demanding attention, getting into trouble, needing to be taken care of … but he _wasn't_ , since Dee had taken him too.

" _Shit_ ," Lee muttered, fervently.

Was he really so pathetic and needy that he'd forgotten how one spent one's time when one was alone?

He decided he really didn't want to know the answer to that question.

Maybe sleep _was_ the best option after all. He'd need all the energy and patience he could muster for the evening routine, which tonight would include a bath for Will. His son would probably be bouncing off the walls after his own nap, and feeling the way he did now, Lee figured that his success level at dealing with a wired two-year-old would roughly approximate that experienced this afternoon in the Admiral's quarters. Without sleep, there was no _success_ at all.

 _In a battle of wills with a rugrat, never arrive unarmed._

Kara had said that once, and it was true.

 _Okay. Sleep it is._

A nap had the added advantage of letting him get out of his own head for a while, allowing him to forget how frakking _quiet_ his quarters were, and why they were quiet, and why they shouldn't have been.

Lee yawned hugely, not bothering to stop himself this time, and shucked off his uniform jacket, tossing it onto the couch nearby. _If I'm going to do this, I may as well do it properly. Shower first, then sleep._ One thing was for certain: the prospect of an uninterrupted shower and then a (hopefully) uninterrupted nap was extremely appealing. Dee was right; he hadn't had that in months. There were always a bunch of different things competing for his attention. Phone calls, security briefings, minor emergencies, work to catch up on, rosters to approve, Will to watch. He tried to remember what it was like to shower or sleep without keeping half an ear out for his son, and couldn't.

Now, his time was truly his own.

And he planned to spend it unconscious, because thinking was vastly overrated.

By the time he got to the bedroom his tanks had gone the way of the jacket, strewn across his bed, and Lee was bending to tug off his boots and socks. Part of him itched to pick up the mess, to fold the clothes and put them away properly, but he really was too tired. And there wasn't anything wrong with _later_.

 _Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow_ , he imagined Kara saying with a smirk. _Now you're catching on, Lee._

In the head he flicked on the shower, shed the rest of his clothing and stepped in, permitting himself for the first time in months to pull the door completely shut behind him. Lee turned, allowing the hot spray of water to pound against the knots of tension in his shoulders, and it was _good_. So good.

Almost as good as Kara's fingers there.

 _No, don't think about that._

But it was too late, and Lee knew it.

There wasn't a square inch of space in these quarters that didn't in some way remind him of her.

He sighed, leaned back against the shower wall.

Which of course brought to mind the times she'd taken him there, or he'd taken her, or the dozens of other places in their quarters they'd used for that purpose.

The couch. He'd guided himself into her from behind as she hung over the side. Kara had flipped him onto his back so she could ride him into the cushions, their bodies sweating and sliding on the leather. She'd told him to lie next to her and frak her, _hard_ , and he'd done so, and they barely noticed when the pace caused them to topple onto the floor.

The wall. Many different walls, at different times. Lee holding her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist and raked her fingers through his hair and kissed him until neither of them could breathe. That singular moment when her eyes slid shut and they gasped and collapsed into each other and he couldn't perceive anything but the white-hot rush of climax through his veins. When they used the wall it wasn't slow and tender, not _ever_ , but it felt as good as anything could.

The door. That one had been especially tricky because of the Marines standing guard outside, and judging by the sparkle in her eyes, Kara had known it. But she hadn't moaned, hadn't screamed, hadn't said his name or otherwise given any indication of what they were up to. Instead, her goal had been to make _him_ do all of those things. She'd forced him to take her slowly, the way she knew he preferred it, and the pressure built up so slowly and deliciously and inexorably that he had been too far gone by the end of it to care what anyone else thought. Neither of the Marines would look him directly in the eye for the remainder of their shifts that day.

The bed, of course. They'd saved that one for special occasions, as when they were trying to get pregnant the second time, and for the inevitable morning encounters. Lee was adamant about being careful with those, since the last thing he wanted was for Will to walk in and get an unexpected eyeful.

And then, there was the shower …

Lee angrily shook his head. This was stupid, frakked-up, ten different kinds of ridiculous. Why was he thinking about _this_ , and why _now_ , when Kara was missing and they didn't even have anything resembling a viable rescue plan?

The trouble was, he knew exactly what she would say if she was here.

 _Probably 'cause you haven't gotten laid in four months, Leland._

Full name and all.

He restrained the impulse to bash his head against the wall.

Not the time. _Not_ the time.

"Dammit," he muttered.

His body, ever eager to do precisely the opposite of what he wanted whenever Kara invaded his thoughts, had not disappointed him this time.

Or rather, it _had_.

Hadn't.

What the hell _ever_.

This time Lee did let the back of his head make contact with the tiled wall, and it was vaguely satisfying, so he did it again.

 _Yup, great way to get rid of that hard-on, Lee. Give yourself a concussion._

He sighed.

He hadn't wanted to do this while she was gone. Had not in fact done anything even remotely sexual in four months. It didn't seem right and there wasn't time and a thousand other things inside held him back. But now he'd dug his own grave by thinking of Kara in any number of arousing situations, and he suspected that this "problem" would only be "solved" one way.

Kara would probably beg him for it if she was there. While she was pregnant with Will Lee had grown used to being bitched out and jumped in equal measure, and often he couldn't tell at the outset which it was going to be. Usually the two melded together. He had little reason to suspect she wouldn't be the same with this baby, wherever she was.

Not helping. _Not_ helping.

Maybe it would let him sleep better.

One thing was certain, he probably wouldn't be able to _fall_ asleep without some kind of relief now.

 _Great._

 _Just frakking great._

Lee was thankful at least that it was not that big of a leap to picture Kara there with him, naked in front of him, her eyes sparkling and tongue darting out to lick at her lips. He imagined her four months pregnant because it was the way she'd been the last time he had seen her, though of course she would be farther along now. The slight rounded swell of her stomach was fixed in his mind, and her breasts, larger, _beautiful_ …

She would have teased him for the ongoing obsession, of course, would have laughed at him and probably used that ridiculous nickname Helo had thought up (and that Lee had been _hoping_ everyone might forget about). But biology was biology: when she was pregnant, her breasts were bigger, and he … liked that. A lot.

 _Okay then, why don't you give birth for me, huh?_

Kara had retorted with that the last time Lee had been stupid enough to give voice to his fixation. And really, he supposed she had a point. So he'd kept silent from then on. But now … well, now she wasn't here. He could picture whatever the hell he wanted, and Kara would never have to know.

Lee couldn't decide whether he should feel guilty about that or not.

But, in the absence of further evidence to compel guilt — he suspected most of his higher reasoning power had headed south — well, there really wasn't much he could do, was there?

No, there wasn't.

His eyes had already slid shut, and he kept them so as he imagined that the hand drifting downwards belonged to someone else … someone who laughed softly while she teased him, studiously avoiding the area he felt needed the most attention … and though he knew the hand was his own, the fingers were his own, with his eyes closed, Lee could pretend something entirely different.

She was touching him … no, no, _stroking_ … up and down his thigh … her breath blowing in and out, in and out … raising tiny hairs in its wake … he curled his hand into a fist, and that felt uncannily like her nose, bumping against his hip, sliding across cut muscle, reaching his groin, and it felt good — it felt good enough to draw out a breathy gasp, as his fingers (her fingers) brushed the side of his length.

Lee couldn't resist any longer. Kara would have held out, would probably have gone on teasing him until he'd begged for mercy, but he decided under the circumstances that "she" should take pity on him.

 _Kara, remember, I haven't had this in four months!_

She would snort, and laugh. _Oh, right, is that your way of saying you're gonna pop already?_

But this was _his_ fantasy, dammit, and this time she _didn't_ hold off. Slick with shower water, his hand glided easily over his cock, establishing a rhythm, slow at first, but picking up speed as the last of his self-control dribbled away. Lee conjured up the last time he'd taken her here, from his memory, recalling how she'd spun to face the wall, her hair flying as she whipped her head around to watch him grasping her, his arms encircling her abdomen protectively (Kara'd said _proudly_ , and Lee had rolled his eyes but inwardly agreed) while he pressed himself into her, slowly, incrementally, making sure to watch her face as he did so, seeing the look of bliss that slipped across her features. Kara's head had been turned towards him, her cheek pressed against the tile, making wet little patterns there as it moved slightly up and down with each of his thrusts.

Lee squeezed himself, hard, and bit down on a groan. Anticipation hummed through his veins, made him slide his other hand over to grasp at his balls, and _that_ felt so good he bucked his hips up — he could almost _hear_ her now, her breathy little sighs and whispers of his name and pleas for him to go faster, the singular exclamation, " _Ah, Lee … oh gods!_ " as she shuddered and fluttered around him — and his finger found the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock that Kara _knew_ drove him crazy … he inhaled sharply …

… and went back to thrusting madly into his hand, without pause, seeking only relief now, the blissful ignorance that could be found in sensation …

… felt it starting, that last hesitation before blessed release …

Lee tumbled gladly over the edge, loud grunts bracketing his hiss of Kara's name as he spilled over his fingers, noticing nothing but the white-hot buzz of relief and pleasure that flooded through him. It kept going, and going, then slowly began to ebb, until he was left leaning against the shower wall, one hand stickily on his softened cock, the other hanging limply by his side. The spray of the shower had long since shut off, not that he'd been in any position to notice. Water was still being rationed.

He dragged his eyes open.

The shower stall was empty.

Logically, of course, Lee had known it would be. Had there been anyone else in the shower — hell, anyone else in the entire _quarters_ — he doubted he would have let go so completely. Not even in front of Kara. _Especially_ not in front of Kara, who'd tease him about it for weeks on end.

 _So the control freak stick-up-his-ass Commander has a kinky side. Will wonders never cease?_

But he couldn't imagine her saying that, somehow. Couldn't even conjure up the sound of her voice anymore, not with the empty stall facing him, not with his own breath resonating in his ears.

Momentary, irrational fear seized him. What if he couldn't remember her voice at all? What if his recollection of that had, like her, vanished?

What if he never heard it again?

He took a deep, gasping inhalation.

The knot of emotion, the knot that Lee had kept under such tight control for so long, was threatening to break loose.

 _I think you need to grieve for this time with her that you're missing._

Dee's voice, so steady and calm and sure. Like grieving was _easy_ , something you did quickly and then forgot. It wasn't. He knew that. He'd been through it before.

 _She's not frakking dead yet, Dee!_

His own exclamation, spoken out of pure fear. He didn't believe it.

Or did he?

What if the kiss on the _Pegasus_ deck had been — would be — the last time he'd ever see Kara?

If the Cylons knew she was on the planet (and Will had seemed to suggest this very fact), they probably wouldn't have wanted her to be out among civilians, sowing rebellion and discord against the occupation. They'd likely come for her as soon as they had figured it out. And life didn't mean very much to them. They had proven that by slaughtering almost the entirety of humanity. Of how much worth would one pregnant woman's life be?

No worth at all.

His wife. His child.

Their hopes for the future.

Gone, just because a bunch of homicidal machines decided to show up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

" _Godsdammit!_ " Lee yelled.

Another shuddery breath escaped him.

The barriers holding back the avalanche wobbled.

Blindly he fumbled for a washcloth and thumbed the faucet of the shower, not remembering immediately that he'd been cut off. Cursing, cursing himself and the engineers and the Cylons and the moisture on his cheeks that wasn't from shower water, Lee wrenched open the door and wet the cloth at the head's sink. He scrubbed vigorously at his hand, scrubbed until the skin was red and raw and stinging. The pain felt good. It focused him, made him forget the avalanche for a moment. He rinsed the cloth, exchanged it for a different one, and swiped at his face.

A glint of light caught his eye.

The lights of the head, flashing off his wedding ring.

 _I could be a — shit, what the hell is that word? Widower? I could be a widower right now and not even know it_ , Lee thought.

 _Or what if I_ do _know?_

 _What if the reason I'm thinking all this is because she_ is _dead, and I just don't want to admit it?_

He slammed his fist into the smooth marble of the sink, wishing it would dent.

 _I won't. I won't._

Saying it was so much easier than believing it.

Lee threw the second cloth down, tossing it as hard as he could, relishing the wet slap as it made contact with the floor. His breath was erratic once more when he charged out of the head and grabbed the first item of clothing his hand touched on the dresser, a sweatshirt. He tugged it over his head and shoved his arms through the sleeves. The material stuck damply to his skin and Lee remembered, belatedly, that he hadn't fully dried himself.

He decided he didn't care.

The silence was too loud.

He was too tired.

He had no more reserves left to fight the avalanche.

The only avenue of relief left was sleep, provided he could reach it quickly enough.

Pants next, and Lee stared at the bed, attempting to conjure up the motivation to climb in.

Now his breath wouldn't come at all.

 _Widower._

And —

What?

There's no word.

He fell backwards onto the bed. Lay there. Wetness on his cheeks again that still wasn't from the shower.

 _There is no word … for a parent who has lost a child._

Lee shook.

Wept.

***

"Mom-mom-mom-mom- _mom!_ "

 _Mama, lookit! Lookit me! Mama, look!_

Another kick, from inside.

" _Hi!_ "

She looked down.

The kid was clutching her, arms around her legs, palms upwards toward Kara's abdomen.

"Baby!" she announced.

Kara bent, at the knees, scooping up the kid and holding her at arm's length as she walked her back across the room. Set her on the couch. The girl immediately spun, nimble as a cat, and bounced happily across the couch, singing to herself.

 _Mama, up! I wanna get up!_

She let her eyes slide closed and went seven steps to the window. Pressed her hands against it.

The kid was _still_ bouncing.

Did they all have this much frakking _energy?_

 _I guess I'd know, if —_

Kara took a breath, begging herself not to complete the sentence.

 _If he'd lived, I would know._

 _If this baby was going to live, I would know._

She felt another tug at her leg.

The kid stared up at her, eyes wide, grinning.

Leoben's words echoed.

 _Once I fertilized your egg, we transferred it to a human woman who carried it to term. She was pretty. Funny. Great smile, you would've liked her. Although her birth mother died during childbirth, Kacey's heart never faltered. I guess she gets that will to live from you._

Kara picked the kid up again. Returned her to the couch.

 _I've seen her path. It's difficult, but rewarding. She'll know the mind of God in this lifetime. She'll see patterns that others do not see. She probably got that spiritual clarity from me._

He'd told her all of that while lounging on the floor with the kid, spread out on a baby blanket with some toys that had magically appeared. The little girl — if that's what it was — didn't seem afraid of the skinjob at all. She smiled and laughed and clapped for him, a trick pony brought in to impress. Kara, for her part, had stayed near the stairs, putting physical and mental distance between herself and the scene that resembled far too many she'd shared with Lee aboard _Pegasus_.

 _Wrestle me, Mama!_

It didn't help that Will's voice, silent and stifled for four months, wouldn't quit reverberating through her head.

Every time the little girl grinned, every time she spoke to Kara or Leoben, every time she bounced on the couch and raced through the apartment, Kara saw another face and heard another voice.

Which was probably precisely the point.

 _You wanted a family, Kara. You had a family with him. But now you and I and Kacey are going to be a family._

Leoben left her with that pronouncement, before running off on some errand or other. He was always going on frakking _errands_.

Unconsciously Kara turned at a small squeal. The kid had her hands flung up in the air, like she was dancing or something.

"Look!" she grinned.

 _No. No. Please don't say that._

"Look!" Kacey shouted again.

Kara spun away.

 _Mama, lookit me!_

The baby squirmed, turned, kicked out, with such strength that Kara gasped a little. It was getting stronger.

Bad sign.

"Baby?" asked Kacey tentatively. Somehow she'd wound up back by Kara's side, trying to cling to her shirt.

Kara didn't reply. She couldn't. Her throat seemed to have jammed closed.

Didn't this kid ever _stop?_ Didn't she ever shut up?

Back to the couch.

Kacey bounced again, humming one of those stupid nursery rhymes.

Will had never heard _those_.

Kara turned in a slow circle, one finger winding through her hair.

The kid giggled and grinned, clapping her hands.

"Frak!" Kara spat.

 _You know, you might want to think about not swearing in front of him one of these days. Just an idea._

She was moving even before she'd consciously decided to do so, walking as quickly as possible to the bedroom, and the washroom enclosed within. It was the only place into which she could lock herself, and while she'd done so often in the early days of her incarceration, after a while, there hadn't seemed to be any point in hiding. She didn't hide.

Kara might _run_ , but she didn't hide.

Now … she was just running.

The click of the door closing behind her was satisfying, as was the buzz of the lights overhead.

She pulled up her shirt.

Watched a tiny foot move across the expanse of her skin.

 _Dammit._

In the mirror her face looked drawn, pale.

 _She'll be hungry soon. There's food on the table. You wouldn't let your own child starve, would you?_

Kara swallowed.

 _Night night, Mama. I love you._

She sucked in a breath.

 _I don't know who or what you are, but I do know this: I'm not your mother. I had a real little boy. He was my son. I loved him._

The kid had just stared innocently back at her. Probably didn't even know what Kara was saying. Didn't know enough to be insulted or upset.

Didn't know she was being used as a pawn in a series of mind games.

Didn't know that by existing, she was confirming all of Kara's suspicions about Leoben's so-called "plans."

The foot appeared again, pushing at its cage.

Involuntarily Kara stroked it through her skin.

 _How much longer do you have?_

Three weeks? Two?

Or are you planning to come early?

Lords, please. No.

A sudden thump and scream outside the door startled Kara from her internal monologue.

Her breath faltered.

 _Oh shit. Oh, shit!_

You weren't supposed to leave little kids alone — was she really so out of practice at being a parent, so absorbed in her own problems, that she'd forgotten this? She'd never left Will alone. And this kid might be half-Cylon or all-Cylon or what the hell ever, but she didn't deserve to get killed just because of Kara's own incompetence.

Did she?

Kara bolted out of the washroom, tugging the door open so forcefully that it rebounded off the opposite wall, and scanned the immediate area. No Kacey.

 _Think, dammit._

The kid couldn't have gotten outside. If _Kara_ had tried and failed, there was no reason to suspect a little two-year-old could manage it. All the furniture and lamps and accessories in both the bedroom and the main room were bolted to the floor or to the tables. Kara knew, because she'd already tried to pry them off as potential weapons.

So what the hell —?

She came around into the living area, heart pounding.

The stairs.

 _Stairs._

The one hazard she hadn't considered.

Kara peered around the railing.

"Kacey?"


	61. Chapter 61

"Daddy!"

Comatose. He felt comatose.

Trying to drag himself awake was like trying to slog through a thick, heavy mud puddle.

"Daddy, _up!_ "

The order was accompanied by a sharp poke to his arm, and it was this which finally caused Lee to open his eyes.

Will stood by the bed, grinning, his hair tousled and eyes bright, index finger reaching out to prod his father again. He giggled when he saw he had Lee's attention. "Hi!"

Lee stifled a yawn and dragged himself slowly upright. He felt about eighty years old, but couldn't deny that it was a relief to see Will again. _No more silence. Thank the gods._

"So you're back, huh?" he asked, holding out his arms to scoop the boy up. "Did you have fun with your aunt Dee?"

Will nodded enthusiastically. "She gots _candy!_ "

"Which is now all over your face," Lee noted, reaching for a cloth on the bedside table and swiping at his son's cheeks while Will tried to squirm away. "I didn't think there was any of that left in the entire universe."

"They were making it on New Caprica again," spoke up a third voice, and father and son turned to see Dee leaning against the doorway, watching with an affectionate smile on her face. "I picked some up a while ago on one of my shore leaves. It's nothing like what we used to have, but he seems to enjoy it."

"Evidently." Lee scrubbed a little harder; the sticky substance was proving stubborn. "How did it go otherwise? Was he good for you?"

"Nah," Dee chuckled. "He was an absolute monster. My quarters are in ruins."

"Yeah, well, join the club. I'm amazed I can find _anything_ in this pigsty." He gave up on the cleaning job, reasoning that it would have to wait until he could draw a bath for his son, and simply hugged Will a little closer. "Thanks for, um, taking him, by the way. I appreciate it."

"No problem." She regarded him for a moment, and Lee cringed inwardly at how awful he must have looked despite the shower. "Are you … okay?"

"Fine." Lee rose, deciding he didn't want to give her the height advantage anymore, and hefted Will onto his hip. "Just, you know, relaxing. Trying to, anyway."

"You didn't do any paperwork, did you?" Dee looked suddenly stern.

"No, of course not," he replied, entirely truthfully for once. "I believe I was given strict instructions not to."

"The XO's a real bitch, huh?" She nodded knowingly.

"She can be. She even threatened bodily harm."

"Wow, that's tough."

"She's got nothing on the Commander, though," Lee bantered, aware suddenly that he was smiling for the first time in several hours. "He's a tightass control freak workaholic who wouldn't know leisure time if it crawled down his throat and choked him to death."

Dee burst out laughing. "Okay, there's _no_ way you came up with that particular description on your own."

He was snickering too. "What, you doubt my creative talents?"

"No, I doubt your ability to _recognize_ yourself as a tightass control freak workaholic who wouldn't know leisure time if it crawled down his throat and choked him to death."

"Ah." Lee stuck his tongue out at Will, who erupted in giggles. "I think your aunt's on to me, buddy."

"Seriously though, _are_ you okay?" Dee asked as they headed into the living area. "You look — well —"

"Like hell?" he supplied ruefully, and set his son on the floor. To the boy Lee said, "Will, I want you to go into the washroom and start getting your clothes off, okay? I'll be right there to start your bath."

"I wasn't going to say it, but … yeah," admitted Dee once Will had scampered away. "You have an excuse, though."

Lee drew a weary hand across his eyes. "The last few months are just piling up, that's all. This whole rescue op … we don't really have a workable plan that isn't complete suicide. I'm not sure it's even possible to come up with a _non_ -suicidal plan. And …" He let the sentence trail awkwardly, not meeting her eyes.

"And?" Dee prompted.

"I have to face facts," Lee told her bluntly, knowing that bluntness was his only ally now. He lowered his voice, acutely aware that Will was probably listening from the next room. "If the Cylons know Kara's on the planet, there is every chance that they've found her by now and either thrown her in a detention cell or eliminated her completely. I need to start planning for that possibility, and preparing myself for the fact that … that even if we _do_ complete the mission and it succeeds, she might not be —"

"Lee, she's coming back," Dee insisted, her tone suddenly pained.

He shut his eyes tightly for a moment and clenched his fists at his sides. "You don't know that for sure. Nobody does."

"But we have to believe it."

" _Why?_ I mean, what if it's — what if it's all just false hope? What if we're deluding ourselves that she, that _anybody_ down there, is okay?"

"What if we give up on them and they _are_ alive?" Her gaze then was almost a glare, but Lee sensed it wasn't meant for him. "Kara's resourceful, Lee, and she's carrying your child. She isn't just going to give up."

" _What if she doesn't have a choice?_ "

The words came out a croak.

Dee bit her lip, swiping surreptitiously at her eyes, but he saw anyway. He saw when she held out her arms, and he moved gratefully forward, and they embraced each other, both shaking a little.

It wasn't like hugging Kara; the angles were all wrong and Dee was too slight, too petite. But she was a warm weight in his arms, and it felt like a relief, to be close for the first time in months to another adult who wasn't directly related to him. He held her for several moments, gratitude enveloping him for her comfort, for how she was simply _there_ , giving of herself and demanding little in return.

"Daddy …?" said a small, mischievous voice from the doorway.

They turned, and both Lee and Dee had to put a hand to their mouths to stifle chuckles.

Will was peering around the corner, smiling … and stark naked. As soon as he became aware that he had the adults' attention, he raced out into the living area and wrapped his arms around Lee's knees with a giggle.

"Will —" Lee began, but couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't result in gales of laughter, so he simply levelled a stern gaze at the two-year-old and turned with an apologetic shrug to his friend. "Sorry about the streaker."

"Well, you _told_ him to get ready," she pointed out. "He doesn't mess around."

 _Boy, when you take a souvenir, you don't screw around._

He pushed that pain aside and instead picked up Will, just for something to do. "I guess I did," Lee said with an awkward sort of laugh. "Look, I really should get his bath going, but I want to thank you again for … for the time, and for taking him, and being a good sport about it. _And_ for this afternoon. I know he kind of made a mess of the briefing …"

"Oh, Lee, he didn't. It's fine. He's a wonderful little boy."

Lee chuckled, but his heart wasn't in it now. "Kat didn't seem to think so."

Dee shook her head, and reached up to tousle Will's hair. "Don't pay any attention to her. Even if she really believes what she said, which I don't think she does, she doesn't speak for all of us. We love having him around."

"Really?"

"Really. For me, anyway, he reminds me of who and what I'm fighting for. He reminds me of why we're all working so hard to do this mission. He makes me keep going even when I'd rather give up." She paused. "And I think the value of a motivator like that on board a warship can't be underestimated. Will is a symbol, Lee. A symbol of the future that we want for this fleet. So is the baby that Kara's expecting."

Will grinned. He might not have been able to understand the meaning behind the words, but he knew he was being talked about.

"You know, Karl said almost the same thing a while ago," Lee mused as his son's arms wound around his neck in a hug. "When Will was just a few days old and we were bringing him back to our quarters from sickbay, we stopped in the pilots' rec room — I can't even remember why now — and everyone was going completely nuts over him. Helo told Kara it was because people needed hope. They needed to believe the fight was really worth something."

A small smile curved Dee's lips. "Karl's a smart guy, Lee. You should listen to him."

"I guess I should."

They said their goodbyes then, Lee throwing in several further expressions of gratitude and Dee brushing him off like it had been nothing. He knew it hadn't, though. Taking care of an active toddler at any time was not for the faint of heart, but especially in the closed environment of a battlestar. And alone … well, he understood that.

The routine of the bath pushed such thoughts momentarily from Lee's mind, for which he was grateful. Bathtime for Will had become a ritual of epic proportions, with no steps that could be skipped or altered, lest the parent in charge be subjected to loud and sustained toddler protestation. The ritual was even more entrenched since Kara's disappearance, and while it often consumed additional time that Lee felt could be better spent on other matters, he allowed it because it seemed to provide his son with the security he needed.

Water must be run to a depth exactly half that of the tub itself, after which Will must be allowed to test the temperature by carefully dipping just the very tips of his toes into the tub. If it was judged to be too warm or too cold, more water of the opposite temperature must immediately be added. (Lee had long since become accustomed to taking minute-long showers to compensate for the drain on their water rations.) Only after the temperature was satisfactory could Will splash his way in.

The removal of dirt from the boy's body also had its own rituals. Hair-washing must always come first, with a washcloth pressed firmly to Will's face to keep both clean water and shampoo out of his eyes. If either substance did somehow manage to make contact, a towel must quickly be produced. Will would swipe furiously at his eyes until he could see, that simple inability seeming to bother him more than the stinging of shampoo under his eyelids actually did. (Lee didn't bother to point out that since his son's eyes were closed beneath the washcloth, he wouldn't have been able to see anyway.) Once Will's hair was wet enough, shampoo could be applied, but not until it had been warmed in his father's hands for a minimum of ten seconds. A toddler finger dipped tentatively into the waiting gel was the measuring stick for proper shampoo temperature.

Oddly, Lee felt these familiar rituals bringing _him_ peace as well on this particular evening, though he had of course progressed well beyond the point where they should be necessary to ensure his own sense of security. But there was something undeniably comforting about crouching next to the tub, the tile biting into his knees, as he helped Will press the cloth over his eyes with one hand and used the other to upend a cup of water over his son's head. Maybe it was because he'd done this so many times before, or perhaps it was due to the fact that he couldn't help flashing back to another place and time, with a different boy in the tub. That boy had been slightly older then than Will was now, and Lee himself had been much younger, and in the position of older brother rather than father. Zak, at age four, was far more independent with bathing but still needed supervision in the tub, and the job had fallen to eight-year-old Lee essentially by default. In later years he'd come to resent it as a symbol of the way his parents never did much actual parenting, but at the time he had enjoyed those moments with his brother, just as he enjoyed similar moments now with his son.

Lee might ordinarily have tried to drown these memories in other thoughts, but he found that evening that he simply didn't have the energy, so he allowed them to drift through him as he scrubbed shampoo into Will's hair, and finally to give voice to them.

"You know, I used to do this for your uncle, too," he murmured, filling the cup with water once more. "When he and I were really little."

To his surprise, Will smiled a bit. "Unca Zak?"

"Yup, Uncle Zak. I taught him how to race his toy boats, and how to make the biggest waves in the tub, and all kinds of neat stuff like that."

"Oh." Will was quiet for a moment. "G'apa help?"

Lee suppressed a sigh and reached for the rinsing cup. "No, Grandpa didn't help."

"Why?" the boy asked immediately.

"Well, he was away a lot." He poured a small stream of bathwater over Will's hair. "Running a ship like this one takes a lot of work. Sometimes he didn't have as much time for his family as he wanted, or as we wanted. So I'd have to take care of your uncle, because he couldn't be there to do it."

Another long silence. Lee knew the two-year-old was probably a little confused, and in a way, he felt grateful. In his son's world, fathers were always present, always available to read to their children and bathe them and kiss them goodnight and comfort them when they had nightmares. Will didn't know anything different, so it was natural for him to assume _all_ fathers were as doting.

 _That's a_ good _thing, dammit._

"Unca Zak in pictures," Will announced, peeling the washcloth back from his face as Lee completed the last rinse. "I saw, at G'apa's."

"Your grandpa has lots of pictures of Zak," Lee nodded. He took a bar of soap from its slot and lathered another cloth. "Can I have an arm, please?"

The two-year-old extended his right hand, a frown momentarily furrowing his brow.

"What is it, buddy?" his father asked.

"Is Unca Zak dead?" Will said, the rise of his tone on the last syllable making it into a question.

Lee swallowed, breath stuttering for a moment. This was not at all how he'd seen this conversation going, though he supposed he should have anticipated it.

 _He just asked a question. Just like any one of the other questions he asks every day._

Of course, it wasn't.

"Yes, Uncle Zak died almost four years ago," Lee answered finally.

"Oh," the boy replied, and cocked his head to one side in apparent contemplation. "Why?"

"He, um — there was an accident. Zak was flying a plane, and it crashed." He rinsed the washcloth and soaped it up again, clearing his throat.

"Oh," Will said again.

Father and son were both quiet for a moment, Lee attempting to get himself under control as he washed the boy's other arm and started on his chest. It was all well and good for Dee to urge his showing emotion in front of Will, and Lee understood innately the point she'd been trying to make about not ending up like Bill Adama. But training oneself to show emotion after a lifetime of suppressing it wasn't easy. He was already dealing with Kara's disappearance and potential loss, not to mention the baby's, and to add Zak to the mix was like throwing a firework into a tylium tank. Additional grief, buried but by no means forgotten, that could upset his already tenuous balance.

 _Frak, if I lose it in front of him and can't get myself together again …_

"Daddy?" Will asked tentatively.

"Lean forward, let me get your back," Lee told him gruffly.

 _And gods be damned if I don't sound just like my father right now. Shit._

The two-year-old complied, but craned his neck to glance up at Lee. His blue eyes were sorrowful.

"Daddy, is Mama dead too?"

Denials rose immediately to Lee's lips, denials and reminders of what he'd told Will in the Raptor after the invasion and words of reproach that they should not even be _thinking_ this way. But the question was so honest, so innocent, seeking facts and a truthful evaluation of the situation. It _deserved_ an equally truthful answer.

Plus, it wasn't as though he himself hadn't been having some of those same thoughts.

"I —" Lee sucked in a breath, ran a hand through his hair. "I — I don't know, buddy," he said finally around the clench in his throat. "There are people on the surface, really nice and good people like your Uncle Sam, who are fighting the bad guys. They'll work their hardest to protect Mama and the baby and to help her in any way they can. And we have to hope that she's still free and working with the resistance. But I just don't know."

"Oh."

This last "oh" was tiny and quiet, vulnerable. It reminded Lee of just how much he did _not_ want to be having such a conversation with his two-year-old son.

 _No kid should have to deal with that. No kid should have to go to bed wondering if he'll ever see his mother again._

Lee felt a surge of rage toward the Cylons, and had to work to keep his hands from shaking as he washed the toddler's legs.

Will gazed downwards, peering intently at a small toy boat he was pushing through the water. "You miss Mama?"

His father's eyes slid involuntarily shut for a moment as he ducked his head, but when Lee straightened up, he did not bother to hide the moisture there. "Yeah, buddy. I miss her a lot. I miss the baby too."

"Baby not borned yet," Will pointed out.

"I know she's not, but I love her already. I loved you before you were born too." It wasn't the entire truth, but it would do for now. "Now, do you want to get out, or stay in and play?"

"Out," the boy decided after a brief pause, and his father wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or the seriousness of their conversation that had put a damper on the bath.

Still, Lee dutifully stood and grabbed a towel from the rack while Will pulled himself to his feet and then over the side of the tub, the toddler's feet skidding slightly on the wet floor. He giggled as the comparative warmth of the towel enveloped him and wrapped around him, Lee using the opportunity to hug the boy a little closer. They both needed it, after what they'd been talking about.

"I want to tell you something else, all right?" Lee said softly as he towelled his son dry. "Just because we don't know what's happening with your mother, doesn't mean we have to stop hoping. Doesn't mean we have to stop believing that she's okay. _I_ believe it. I work hard to believe it. I believe it because it makes me sad to think she _isn't_ okay, but I also believe it because I know Mama, and I know she's going to try as hard as she can to get back to us."

"You said," Will nodded.

"Never hurts to say it again. Right?" (Another nod.) "And Grandpa and I and Aunt Dee and Uncle Karl and a lot of other people are working on a plan right now to get everyone off New Caprica. We'll rescue them and then Mama will come back and your baby sister will be born. That's what I believe."

Will digested this. Then, "Brother," he said, smiling mischievously.

"Brother?" Lee blinked, momentarily confused. Then he abruptly rolled his eyes. "What, are you telling me you want a brother and not a sister?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, you and your mom both. But we'll see — who's — _right!_ " Lee punctuated each word with a tickle, until Will was shrieking, giggling, trying frantically to dodge away and failing, pounding on his father's back when the latter swept him, towel and all, up into his arms.

" _Daddyyyyy — let go!_ " Will cried, but he was laughing and squirming as Lee carried him at a brisk walk into the bedroom and tossed him on the wide bed, falling down next to him in a heap.

They wrestled playfully for several minutes until Lee was out of breath, his son crouched on his chest. "Okay, okay, you got me … I surrender — I give up!" he added when Will kept beating a small hand against his shoulder.

"You old?" asked Will, and his smile again held all of the mischief Lee had come to associate with Kara.

"Your mama told you to say that, didn't she?" Lee rolled his eyes again.

Will snickered. "Maaaaaaaaybe," he allowed, giggling once more.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Lee sighed, and leaned a little closer. "But you know how I always answer her when she goes and starts saying that stuff?"

"How?" Will whispered back.

"Like this."

And Lee hugged his son, hugged him close and strong, hugged him enough for Kara too, because she couldn't be there, hugged him for all the future embraces that she wouldn't be able to offer if she didn't return.

Will hugged back, without hesitation, trust and devotion flowing back tenfold.

For the smallest of moments, Lee's shadows eased.

***

The beeping of the heart monitor seemed loud in the confined space.

But she didn't care.

The monitor meant _life_ , though for how much longer, Kara didn't know.

She didn't know how much longer life would go on for her, or for the baby she carried, or indeed for the girl in the hospital bed. If the Cylons could give that girl life, they could certainly decide to take it away, and at a whim.

Just as they'd taken Will's.

But it was beyond her control. All of it was beyond her control.

At least she knew for certain now that the jail cell Leoben called an apartment was being watched, and closely at that. Panic had exploded within Kara once she glimpsed Kacey's body, prone on the floor, a trickle of blood leading outward from the toddler's head. She'd stood dumbly by the girl, breath heaving in and out in long gasps, acutely aware that she had no idea how to go about summoning help. The door to the apartment was locked, and even if it hadn't been, the bars on the outside precluded any heroics. Leoben would return eventually — he always did — but Kacey could bleed out before that happened. Kara didn't even know if it was safe to move her.

What felt like an eternity, but was likely only several minutes, seemed to have passed when the door's lock sprang and a Simon rushed in. Kara wasn't sure if it was the same one who came and did her ultrasounds, and neither did she care. She knew only that she was glad to see him, for probably the first and last time in her life. He'd gotten Kacey stabilized, and taken both of them to a medical facility right inside the detention centre complex. Kacey's head was bandaged, and she was hooked to monitoring equipment and tucked into a hospital bed.

She'd been asleep ever since, or maybe unconscious. Kara hadn't moved from the side of the bed.

It always seemed to end up this way, with the people Kara cared about in a hospital bed, injured.

Or dead.

She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on the heart monitor. Its beep was steadily reassuring.

For a moment she could imagine no one but her son in the bed.

 _Idiot. Kacey isn't — isn't —_

Kara couldn't even think his name.

If what the toaster had told her was true — and she wasn't sure she was prepared to accept it just yet — this child was half hers, just as Will had been.

 _But it's different. It is_ not _the same_.

The monitor kept beeping. Kacey's hand twitched, very slightly.

 _You can't compare a kid created out of love to one made in a plastic dish._

Or could you?

Dammit, she did _not_ want to be thinking about this right now.

But what else was there to think about? The toaster. The dollhouse of a jail cell where he was keeping her. Her son, dead four months. The baby, who'd be dead soon after birth. The similar fate that awaited her. The Adama line, wiped out at almost a single stroke, because of her. She _hadn't_ been strong enough.

Kara forced her mind back to Kacey.

The door creaked open.

She knew without even having to look who had entered. It was something about the way he moved, breathed, walked. If there had been a sharp object within reach, a weapon that would cause more than a pinprick's worth of damage, she would have used it. If she had such a weapon … and if she could be sure Kacey wouldn't wake up and see.

The chair beside her shifted as Leoben sat down.

He pressed a mug of something warm into her hand. Not knowing what else to do, Kara took it.

 _Why the hell do people always hand out cups of tea in a crisis?_

She sniffed the drink suspiciously.

 _Or whatever._

To avoid even the chance that she might have to look at him, she glanced back to Kacey, watching the little girl as she slept, the slight downturn of her mouth, the way her blonde hair fanned across the hospital-white pillow, the shape of her nose … all features that, if Kara squinted and used her imagination, she could pick out in herself.

The idea startled her.

Love was supposed to be the missing ingredient in creating Cylon-human hybrids. Sam, Helo, and Sharon had all alluded to that. But if they'd been wrong, if it really _did_ just take a few egg samples and a willing surrogate …

Kara snorted. Somehow she doubted any human surrogate would have been "willing."

Which made the idea of this child all the more distasteful.

The idea … not the child herself.

 _No kid should be punished because of her parents, biological or not._

"Lords, please don't take her life," Kara whispered aloud, before she could stop herself. "It was my mistake. Don't punish her for it."

"It was an accident, Kara," Leoben said. "Nothing more."

Perhaps … but she herself had suffered too many "accidents" during her own childhood at the hands of her mother not to feel a frisson of cold guilt crawl up her spine.

 _I didn't mean this. I_ didn't.

 _But it still happened_ , whispered a traitorous voice, long-dormant, in her mind.

She was about to pray again, anything to drown it out, when Kacey's eyes flicked once, twice, again, and finally opened fully to stare at her.

"Kacey?" Kara exclaimed, her tone equal parts disbelieving and relieved. "Kacey, oh my gods. Honey?"

Part of her mind recoiled immediately at the term of endearment. Will had never been subjected to those; not from _her_ , anyway.

But she couldn't bring herself to care about that, not now, not when Kacey was _alive_ , not when the girl was smiling back at Kara, and it was the kind of smile Kara hadn't seen in months, an adoring smile, and it was — it was —

 _It can't be._

Her mind hungered to accept the possibility, even as logic struggled to find reasons to reject it.

Will's smile.

Will's smile in Kacey's face, in her eyes.

Kara wasn't aware until much later, until Kacey had fallen back to sleep … that her hand had somehow found Leoben's. That it was holding it tight.

That she didn't care.


	62. Chapter 62

Duty in CIC the following day was excruciating.

Ordinarily he welcomed his shifts, welcomed the opportunity to spend time focusing on purely administrative concerns — as they almost always were these days, with little real action needing to be monitored except training drills. The day-to-day minutiae of command filled up the spaces in his mind that would otherwise be occupied with thinking about Kara, and trying to suppress his own emotions. When he was on duty, Lee was in command not only of a battlestar, but also of himself.

But now, he couldn't think of anywhere he wanted to be _less_.

Not here. Not in CIC. Not standing behind a console supervising drills and directing pointless paper-pushing. There wasn't any _use_ for that.

What they _needed_ to be doing was refining the rescue plan.

And failing that, he wanted to be with his son.

However, since neither of those options seemed possible at the moment, Lee stood behind the console, his hands clenched, speaking through gritted teeth only when spoken to. Dee was as stolid a presence as ever at his side, and more than once he felt her hand touch his arm in sympathy. Even Hoshi gave him several kind looks, though the understanding in the officer's eyes might merely have been conjecture on Lee's part.

Three and a half hours in, he was beginning to wonder if he might go crazy. The shift had been so completely, ridiculously _purposeless_ so far that Lee was tempted to make up an excuse, fly to _Galactica_ and demand of the Admiral in person how the rescue plans were proceeding.

As it turned out, he didn't need an excuse.

Lee's eyes slid over to the communications console, where Dee was reading through the latest batch of ship-to-ship messages. At a particular sheet, she paused, her eyes narrowed, and she snorted in disgust.

"Unbelievable," Dee muttered.

Lee arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"Admiral's decided to put some boots on the ground," she explained, derision in her tone. "He wants to send an officer as a liaison between us and the resistance elements on the planet to coordinate the rescue op."

"Yeah, which is exactly what I told him he should do," Lee said, and relief mingled with his annoyance now. At least _something_ was getting done over there. "So what's the problem?"

Dee eyed him. "It's who he's sending."

He accepted the page she handed him, scanning it quickly. Felt his stomach nearly drop through the deck plating.

"He's frakking _kidding_ with this, right?" Lee demanded.

She shook her head. "I wish he were."

Lee crumpled the printout in a fist and whirled around. "Mr. Hoshi, I want a Raptor prepped and ready in five minutes on the hangar deck. Inform the flagship I'm coming aboard for a private meeting with the Admiral."

"Aye, sir."

"What are you going to do?" Dee called after her friend as he pushed through the CIC doors.

"What I should've done a long time ago," snapped Lee, his voice echoing in the corridor.

He was so blinded by rage, and so glad at the same time to have an emotion to feel other than longing or grief, that he barely noticed the ride to _Galactica_ , hardly acknowledging the crew who greeted him or the petty officer who accompanied him to his father's quarters. He only took stock of his surroundings again when he was face to face with Bill Adama across the latter's desk, wondering how the hell he was going to convince the Admiral of his point of view.

"You can't do this," Lee blurted without preamble. "She's a Cylon."

"Well, I trust her," Bill replied simply. Barely even looked up from his paperwork.

"Well, that's a mistake."

The Admiral scrawled a signature on a long form. "It'll be my mistake, won't it?"

"You are gambling with the lives of everyone on New Caprica," the younger man practically snarled. "You are gambling with _my wife's_ life, and with —" Lee stopped short, fully aware that he'd been about to start talking about the baby. "And with the lives of all the friends we have down there. Sam, and Galen, and Cally, and —"

"Lee," Bill said softly, looking his son in the eye for the first time since their conversation had started. "I know exactly who is down there. I know exactly what we have to lose."

"Do you? Do you _really?_ Because I'm not sure about that. I wasn't sure about that from the moment I saw your mission plan and I'm even _less_ sure of it now. This entire plan is a reckless gamble. And yes, you certainly have the right to risk the lives of the men and women under your command. But that's not the issue. The issue is that you are risking the lives of the entire human race!"

"I'm trying to _save_ the human race," Bill shot back, sliding his pen back into its holder and rising from his desk. To an outsider he might still have looked calm, but the set of his shoulders as he headed toward the hatch belied the tension that had settled into the encounter since Lee entered the office.

The latter jumped up too, following his father, determined not to let Bill have the last word. "No! No, you're not. That's what you're not seeing! New Caprica split us up, made us less than half of what we were, and now you're trying to split us up again! That kind of strategy might have been sound before the Cylons attacked, but as the human race grows smaller and smaller, simple _logic_ should dictate that we stay together as much as possible. And I've spent four months wondering when the hell we're going to go back, when we're going to execute a workable plan, and _this_ is what we come up with?"

Bill didn't even turn as they headed down the corridor together. "Sharon can penetrate the Cylon defenses."

"It's not about her!" Lee said hotly.

"The Centurions can't distinguish her from the other humanoid models," the older man went on, like he hadn't heard a word. "Did you know that?"

"Admiral —"

"They were deliberately programmed that way. The Cylons didn't want them becoming self-aware and suddenly resisting orders. They didn't want their own robotic rebellion on their hands. You can appreciate the irony."

Lee took a deep breath, counting to ten. It barely helped. He'd always found it infuriating to deal with his father when Bill was like this, determined and implacable and unable to see that _his_ way wasn't necessarily the _best_ way. Despite the progress they'd made over the last year, and indeed since Will had been born, there were still times when Lee felt they were back at square one, trading barbs with each other about Zak's death in a _Galactica_ briefing room before the battlestar's decommissioning ceremony.

" _Dad_ ," he blurted, stepping directly in front of the Admiral, who finally stopped. "All I'm saying is that we _have_ to think about the future. We have to come up with a plan that's as fail-safe as possible. And I don't think this is that plan."

"We don't have time to come up with a fail-safe plan." Bill's eyes were surprisingly soft as he regarded his son. "You said so yourself. Of all the mission plans we've discussed, this is the one with the best chance of success."

"But it's still only a _chance_ ," Lee reminded him. "If you go back to New Caprica now, and you lose, it's over. Humanity just _stops_. And an Admiral's stars don't give you the right to make that gamble."

"Which is why you're going to resume the search for Earth with the _Pegasus_ and the civilian fleet."

" _We can't split up!_ "

"What would you have me do, Lee?" Bill asked tiredly. "You and I are both agreed that leaving the population behind on New Caprica is out of the question. We've also agreed that time is of the utmost importance. If we accept those two conclusions as unassailable, the mission plan we've come up with is the only viable one."

Lee slumped against the wall, rubbing his eyes and feeling the fight drain out of him as suddenly as it had risen. When he spoke, his tone was not the Commander's, or even an officer's. It was the father's, the husband's, the son's.

"I know," he mumbled. "I just wish there was another _way_ , dammit."

Bill nodded. "I do, too."

"Dad, you —" It came out a croak. "You won't have a chance."

"I'm going back, son." The words were muffled against Lee's shoulder as Bill pulled his son into a hug. "I'm going back to get Kara."

Lee tried to relax into the embrace, squeezing his eyes closed, biting down on the words he longed to say.

 _I want to get her too._

I want to help you.

Please.

***

Sharon Agathon was sworn in later that very afternoon as an officer in the Colonial Fleet, earning for herself the starting rank of Lieutenant. The ceremony was conducted in Bill's quarters, with the Admiral, Helo, Lee, Dee, Kat and a few others there to witness it. Lee had insisted on being present, and had given as his excuse that the importance of the ceremony demanded all senior officers be there. It was part of his reasoning, but he had another reason too, one that he didn't even really want to tell the Admiral about.

There was something profoundly strange about watching Sharon, _this_ Sharon, wear the uniform and repeat the oath. Even though Lee knew logically that each model was different, and that this model in particular had proven her loyalty to the fleet over and over since coming aboard _Galactica_ , he still had difficulty reconciling that with the _other_ Sharon, the Sharon with whom he had served in the first months of the war, the Sharon who'd been best friends with Kara … the Sharon who had shot his father. He should have moved on from that a long while ago, and he _had_ , but some things about that time were simply impossible to forget: the blood on the command console, Tigh yelling for a medic, Lee himself shouting at his father to wake up. And Sharon, Boomer, acting — or perhaps _not_ acting? — shocked and amazed at what she had done.

Kara had accepted the new Sharon more quickly, and during the year on New Caprica could frequently be found in the brig when she visited _Galactica_ , sometimes with Will, talking to the Cylon. She had encouraged Lee to come along, but the latter didn't think he could. It was too weird. He knew his father had also started to share tea with Sharon in her cell, especially since the fleet jumped away from the planet. But Lee hadn't seen Sharon at all in those four months.

Following the conclusion of the induction ceremony, Bill, Lee, Helo and the new Lieutenant Agathon had all proceeded to the hangar deck to see the first phase of the mission off. Lee looked away as Karl and Sharon embraced and kissed, steeling himself for what he had to do.

He waited until the couple had broken apart and Karl and his father stepped over to speak with the crew of Marines climbing into the Raptor. Then he cautiously approached Sharon.

"Lieutenant," Lee began stiffly once he had her attention. Taking refuge in protocol was never a bad idea. "I wanted to offer you my sincere congratulations on your commission."

Sharon followed his lead. "Thank you, sir. I'll do my best to uphold the trust you and the Admiral have placed in me."

"Right," Lee nodded, and fumbled around for something, _anything_ , else to say. "Look, um, Lieutenant — _Sharon_ — I … I've got a favour to ask of you while you're on the surface. And I understand if you think it's too much or … or you don't know me well enough or there isn't enough time —"

"Just spit it out, Lee," Sharon interrupted, her smile surprisingly gentle.

"Right," he said again, feeling ridiculous. "Kara is … well, you probably know this already, but … Kara's on New Caprica. She wasn't supposed to be there, but she went down just before the occupation started. I don't know where she is now; I don't know whether she's even alive or dead …" His voice cracked, and Lee swallowed hard. "I think the Cylons might have her. But if there's anything you can find out, anything at all … I'd appreciate it."

"I'll do what I can," promised Sharon. "It'll be hard to get information out in the mission briefs I'll be sending from the surface, but if she's safe, I'll let you know."

Lee cleared his throat. "Thanks," he replied sincerely. "Just — thanks."

Sharon gave a last, sharp nod and turned to walk towards her Raptor, then stopped short. "Hey, Lee?"

"Yeah?"

"How's Will doing?" she asked.

"He's — he's good," Lee replied, a little surprised by the question. "It's been hard for both of us, with Kara not here, but we're surviving. I think."

A small smile curved her lips. "He's about two now, right?"

"He just turned two a couple months ago. Kara … Kara wasn't here for his birthday, but he and I had a nice dinner with my dad. Will's running all over the place now, getting into things, driving me up one bulkhead and down the other, giving me gray hairs. He's his mother's son. She would be proud."

Sharon laughed. "I'm glad to hear it."

"I know she used to … I know she used to bring him down to visit you," Lee said hesitantly. He wasn't really sure if this line of discussion would be welcome. "I'm sorry about not doing that. I just haven't had the time."

It was _mostly_ the truth, anyway.

"It's fine, Lee," Sharon assured him. Then she paused again, hesitating too.

"What?" he asked, boldly.

"Nothing." She shook her head. "Just make sure you never let him out of your sight."

Lee nodded and sucked in a breath as he watched Sharon head toward his father and Karl. She of all people would know, of course, having lost a child. What he ached to tell her, more than anything, was that he knew too. It might not be a permanent thing — _was not_ , his optimistic side reminded him — but he had nonetheless lost the baby Kara was carrying, for at least four months. Perhaps forever if this mission of Bill's did not succeed.

If and when he got to meet his new daughter or son, he planned to heed Sharon's advice as no advice had ever been heeded before.

***

The routine was familiar.

Even — she hesitated to think this under the circumstances — _comforting_.

A parent, tucking their child into bed.

Kacey _was_ her child.

Kara had sat by the girl in the medical facility, never leaving her. She'd talked to her, whether Kacey was asleep or awake. She had shielded her from Leoben whenever the latter was present, which was often. She'd held her hand. She'd stroked her hair. All things she would have done for her own son. She hadn't been able to protect Will from the Cylons. But maybe the gods were giving her another chance. Maybe, against all odds and logic, they had decided she was still worth favouring.

She would protect Kacey.

When the time came for the toddler to be released from the medical facility — none the worse for wear, though with her head still bandaged — Kara insisted on carrying Kacey back to the detention cell apartment herself, and she did, despite the fact that her back did not appreciate the extra weight. The Cylons who accompanied her, a Doral and the ever-present Simon, seemed relieved, apparently reasoning that Kara would be less of a threat to escape if she was encumbered by the girl. In reality, no such plans had even entered Kara's mind. There was no way to do it without getting killed or seriously injured, since Cylons outnumbered humans in the facility by a ratio of at least five to one. And while death was one of her plans, she wanted to _choose_ it, to meet it on her own terms, rather than having it forced upon her.

Once back in the apartment, she had suffered through Simon's final examination of both herself and Kacey and Doral's simpering questions as to whether they needed anything. (Kara debated the relative merits of shouting at him that she and Kacey and the baby needed to be _free_ , but she eventually decided against it.) And as soon as the skinjobs left, she'd picked up Kacey and headed directly for the bedroom.

Now they were in the bed, Kacey tucked into one side, Kara on the other just watching her. The toddler napped off and on, but when she was awake, her hand reached for Kara's, and Kara held it.

"Baby?" Kacey asked, as she had so many times before. Her eyes were on Kara's abdomen.

Kara considered ducking the question again, but knew she couldn't, not when the little girl's eyes were so earnestly looking at her. Will would have asked the same thing.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have a baby. He's in here right now, until he's ready to be born."

"Boy?" This was said with a small pout.

"I don't know," Kara replied honestly. "His, um … his dad thinks he's a girl, but I'm not so sure."

"I wanna girl too!" Kacey declared. She beamed a smile.

Kara felt an actual laugh bubbling up, and didn't bother to suppress it. "Lee would be happy to hear that."

"Lee?"

"My husband," she explained. "The man that I lived with, on my ship. He gave me this ring when we got married." Kara held out her hand for the little girl to see. "We lived on a big ship called the _Pegasus_. And we had a little boy just about your age."

 _Will was your half-brother. If you really are my daughter._

The thought was a strange one, but truthful nonetheless.

"What's his name?" asked Kacey.

Kara cleared her throat. "He was named Will, after his grandfather."

"Oh." The girl seemed to ponder this. Then, "Baby name?" she said, gesturing again.

"I don't know," Kara said again, allowing a hand to drift over her stomach. The baby squirmed and twisted, restless. "Lee and I hadn't really talked about that yet. But we had a deal when I was expecting Will. If the baby was a boy, I'd get to name him, but if it was a girl, Lee would pick the name. I had a boy, so I chose to call him Will."

Truthfully, she hadn't even considered names for this baby. She was hopeful of having another boy, because she knew that would _really_ annoy Lee, but that had been before the invasion, and the occupation, and her promise. Now, Kara still wanted a boy, but for entirely different reasons. Boys weren't as highly prized by the Cylons, and were therefore correspondingly less likely to be sent off to Farms. If she delivered a girl, there was no question that Kara would need to keep that promise.

"You sad?" Kacey murmured. Her hand came up to stroke at Kara's cheek.

 _How the hell do I explain the Farm to a two-year-old? Or however old she is._

"I miss my little boy," she answered. Once more, it was the truth. "He died when the Cylons first came to New Caprica."

And there it was, those words, the words that were _just_ words but of course represented so much more.

She closed her eyes. Felt them cut at her.

There was a long silence.

Then Kacey pressed closer, cuddling into her, a motion that was not quite a hug but felt designed nonetheless to offer comfort. Kara forced her eyes open, forced herself to look at the girl, to absorb the unconditional acceptance in Kacey's gaze.

 _I did so much to you … wouldn't even_ look _at you to start out with … and you can still see me the way you do._

She drew a breath.

Slipped an arm around Kacey's shoulders.

"There's something I wanted to say to you," Kara began softly. "I'm sorry that I left you alone. I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I was upset with myself, and not you, okay?"

Kacey nodded solemnly, like she understood.

Kara hugged her a little closer. "Um … grown-ups do stupid things sometimes. We get … caught up in our own little world until it's almost too late." She paused, shaking her head. "You have no idea what I'm saying to you, do you?"

Kacey's hand found Kara's.

Squeezed.

 _Will_ , Kara thought.

She closed her eyes.

***

"G'apa!"

The cry came from behind one of the Raptors being prepped for the mission, and it drew Bill Adama's attention immediately. Lee smiled to himself and set his son down, watching as the boy ran at full speed toward his grandfather and was hefted into Bill's arms, whereupon he threw his arms around the elder's neck.

"I miss you!" Will proclaimed, though it had probably been, at most, a couple days since they'd seen each other last.

"I missed you too." Bill stroked his grandson's hair. "I didn't know you were coming to see us off."

Will grinned. "Daddy said I come!"

Lee kept carefully out of sight behind one of the other Raptors, watching the exchange. He'd brought the boy to say goodbye to Bill, partly because he knew his father would like that, and partly … partly for a reason he barely wanted to acknowledge. A thought that he didn't want to believe, but that wouldn't leave him alone.

 _They're not coming back._

No one on this mission is coming back.

His teeth sunk deeply into his lower lip.

"You gonna go back now?" Will was asking.

"Yeah, we're going back now," replied Bill. "Your dad brought you, huh?"

"He did," Lee nodded, no longer able to stay where he was. "I — well, I thought you might like to see Will too."

"Of course." Bill shifted the boy to his other hip, beginning to dig in his pocket for something.

Lee swallowed, glancing at his watch. "Sharon — Sharon's probably on the ground by now, huh?"

"I know." The elder handed his son a slim sheaf of papers. "These are your orders. You'll find the rendezvous point there. Take the civilian fleet and wait for me for eighteen hours. If I'm not back in eighteen hours, then find Earth."

"Yeah, right." Lee barked a laugh.

"I'll see you at the rendezvous point," Bill said softly.

"G'apa?" Will tapped his grandfather's shoulder.

"What is it, son?"

"You get Mama back?"

"Yes, that's exactly what we're going to do," promised Bill. "We're going to get your mother back. And you'll see her in just one more day. She'll be safe." He rubbed circles over Will's back.

The boy grinned. "An' the baby?"

Bill's eyes snapped to his son's.

Lee cleared his throat.

"Baby?" the Admiral asked, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"Yeah, we, um …" The younger man took another breath, suddenly unable to meet his father's gaze. "I wasn't going to say anything until she was back here and we could tell you together, Dad. But when Kara … when Kara left for New Caprica before the Cylons came, she was four months pregnant. And I don't know if she's even still alive, or if she's okay, but if she is, she'd be almost ready to give birth." He clenched his jaw and dared to look upwards. "So I need her back here. _We_ … both of us … need her back."

"We'll get her back," Bill replied, and this time the words held cold steel, had the force of the Admiral's will behind them.

"Brother!" Will proclaimed.

"You want a baby brother?" his grandfather asked, to vigorous nods from the boy.

"He and Kara say it's another boy," Lee smiled. "I don't agree, but … I guess we'll see."

"You never know." An answering smile peeked out from beneath Bill's mustache. "And Lee?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't wait to meet her." The Admiral winked.

Impulsively Lee came forward, clasping his father's outstretched hand, allowing himself to be pulled into the one-armed embrace. Will squirmed against them, but Lee barely noticed, enfolded as he was in Bill's arms, wondering why the hell it was fair that this might be the last time he ever got to experience such a hug.

"Eighteen hours," Lee managed, his voice low and gravelly. "Try not to be late."

"I'm getting old," Bill reminded him with a chuckle. "I'm a little slow. But I'll be there."

Lee shut his eyes, taking another shaky breath. "Gods, I wish I could talk you out of this."

"You can't. You tried." The older man patted his son's back. "And I need to go get my new grandchild."

The same warmth was building behind his eyelids that Lee recognized from his most recent breakdown; he fought it as hard as he could. "Dad, um —"

"Don't." Bill pulled back, depositing a last kiss on his grandson's head. "Don't make me cry on my own hangar deck."

Lee could only nod again, dumbly, as Will was deposited in his arms.

"I'll see you there," Bill told them.

"Eighteen hours," Lee insisted as he stepped onto the wing of the Raptor that would take him back to _Pegasus_.

"Eighteen hours. And she'll be with me."

Lee hugged Will close. "Okay."

"She'll be with me."

The promise was sealed with a salute.


	63. Chapter 63

It had been a long day, one of the longest in a series of long days. Lee knew it wasn't over yet, either. For all intents and purposes it had barely begun.

Will slept, silently, in his lap. He focused on that, focused on his son's warm weight, and on the way the boy's hand felt in his. Will had, perhaps understandably, refused to sleep in a bed, choosing the security Lee could provide over physical comfort. Once again, the boy had proved surprisingly perceptive. He knew _something_ was going on, even if he couldn't articulate precisely what it was. Perhaps he even understood that Lee felt better when he was near.

Absently Lee stroked Will's hair, only half-listening to Dee go over the latest ship-to-ship messages on the couch across from them.

"Hoshi's working on updating our map coordinates for the search for Earth," Dee was saying. "The civilian captains want to meet with you. They have questions, problems …" She trailed off, finally seeming to realize he wasn't really paying attention. "Talk to me, Lee."

"I'm having trouble … accepting this." He hated how flat his voice sounded, but couldn't help it.

"I know," she nodded. "But we have to push forward. Keep the fleet together. Find Earth."

He snorted. "Right. That's our _duty_."

Dee sighed and slid the folders she was holding onto the coffee table. "There's still a chance they'll come back. Your father has pulled off more than a few miracles in his day."

"I know that," Lee forced himself to say. "And I haven't given up hope."

"Yes, you have," she countered. "I saw the look on your face when you came back from _Galactica_. Like you were never gonna see him again."

Finally he looked up, looked directly at her, took in her expression, full of worry and sympathy both. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Open books are harder, Lee." Dee chuckled. "That's something Kara said to me once, about you."

Lee shook his head, a small sigh escaping him. "He's taking on too much for one half-strength battlestar to handle," he replied at length. "And that's not opinion, that's military fact. He's not coming back from this. None of them are."

"You said yourself that this was still the best plan," she reminded him.

"The _only_ plan," Lee corrected, shifting Will a bit so that he could hug his son closer. "And I know … I know that we have to think of the future. _Pegasus_ is the fail-safe. It and the civilian fleet will carry on the human race if everybody else doesn't come back."

"But you don't agree with that," Dee stated.

"Of _course_ not! Dee, godsdammit, how could I? I mean, after today … after today Will and I could be the only two Adamas left in the universe. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

"Not exactly," she replied diplomatically. "But I imagine it's similar to knowing you're the only Dualla left in the universe."

His head dropped into his hands, and he scrubbed weary fingers across his eyes. "Frak it, I'm sorry. I am. I keep forgetting … shit."

Dee offered a reassuring smile. "It's all right. Really, it is," she added at the look on his face. "Truth be told it doesn't even enter _my_ mind all that much anymore. It's funny, after the attacks it was all I could think about, and now I hardly ever consider it at all. My whole family wiped out, my father, my mother, my sisters and nieces and nephews … it's too _big_. Too much. Sometimes I believe I've accepted it, and then I tell myself that there's no way. I could never get over it that quickly, not if they meant as much to me as I say they did."

"Do you ever wish you could just … go back?" Lee asked tentatively, averting his gaze. "And not go back and change something, but go back and hit some frakking _sense_ into your past self? Take yourself by the jacket collar and just backhand yourself across the face, so that you wouldn't make all the dumb mistakes you know you're going to make?"

"Sure," Dee said. Her smile widened slightly. "But Lee, you know, all the mistakes I've made in the past, I don't regret making a single one. Because if I hadn't made those mistakes … I wouldn't have learned how to put things right again."

He eyed her now. "How to put things right?"

"I know how you really feel about this mission, Lee. I know you don't like it. I know you wish there was a different plan. But …" She paused, not meeting _his_ gaze for the first time.

"What?"

"What if there _was_ something you could do? Something else, something that wasn't in the plan?"

Lee frowned. "I don't follow."

Dee sat forward and clasped her hands together. "If the choice was up to you, knowing what you know about the situation and forgetting protocol, what would you do? What do your instincts tell you?"

He drew a deep breath, looking down at his son's face again, watching Will's eyelids flutter as the boy dreamed.

"I know that splitting up _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_ is wrong," Lee said slowly. "I'm not going to pretend otherwise just for the sake of following orders."

She accepted this with a firm nod, pulling a blank sheet of paper towards her and uncapping her pen.

"All right," Dee told him, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Let's see what we can do."

***

The explosions began almost immediately after the morning meal. At first it seemed no different from typical insurgent movements, and Kara paid the noise little heed. Shit blowing up had become so commonplace after the occupation, especially in the last two months or so, that there was no point in getting all worked up about it. False hope could be more dangerous than a loaded gun.

Kacey was happy to keep to the bed for the majority of the morning, a fact for which Kara felt thankful. The bedroom had been Leoben's exclusive domain for nearly the duration of her incarceration — though he had, of course, repeatedly hinted that she should join him there — meaning that Kara had often been forced to curl up on the couch, and spend the majority of her nights awake. With Kacey's arrival and her return from the medical center, they had at last taken over the bed.

Kara took a certain amount of perverse pleasure in the idea that the skinjob would now have to sleep on the couch. Though Leoben hadn't complained, of course.

She fed Kacey while they were still tucked safely between the sheets, both laughing over the crumbs they spilled. At several points Kara caught Leoben watching them out of the corner of her eye, but she paid him no heed, and her only response to his pronouncement of "I'm going to set your baby free" was a derisive snort. In Leoben-talk that could have meant _anything_.

 _And I don't have time for his crap right now._

Around mid-morning there was a bang right outside the detention center, and then another and another, all three in quick succession. They were close enough and loud enough to make even Kara jump.

Kacey was gazing curiously up at her, no trace of fear or alarm in her features. "What's that?"

"I dunno, honey." Kara squinted out through the frosted glass of the living area, but it was almost impossible to see anything from this angle. "Maybe the good guys are comin'?"

She meant it as a joke, and carefully disregarded just how much she wanted it to be true.

"Good guys?" Kacey asked.

"My friends, out there, fighting the Cylons," Kara told her. "There's Sam, and Galen, and Cally, and Laura, and …"

She trailed off, catching quick movement from the other room. Leoben was pulling on his jacket, zipping it up, everything about his actions bespeaking urgency.

"Kara?" Kacey tugged Kara's shirt.

"Stay here," Kara ordered, and slid out of bed, slowly and clumsily boosting herself up. The pregnancy had stolen much of her mobility, so she teetered for a moment, off-balance, before grabbing the wall for support.

In the main room she found Leoben already hurrying up the stairs, heading for the door. Kara rushed after him. _You're not getting away so easily_ this _time, dammit._

"What's going on?" she demanded.

The skinjob barely turned. "Insurgents," he said tersely. "I'll be back."

"You _cannot_ leave us trapped in here!" Kara exclaimed as another loud boom shook the apartment. Dust fell from the ceiling.

"It's safest for you here," Leoben insisted, and turned the doorknob.

She did the only thing she could think of.

Kara jumped on him, trying to get him around the neck, poke out his eyes, any way of disabling him. It was in some senses spectacularly stupid — she didn't have a weapon, was heavily pregnant, and had lost much of her fitness through inactivity, while he was strong and healthy. But she _had_ to make him see sense, in this if in nothing else. If the ceiling of the place went, that was the end of Kara and Kacey, and therefore of Leoben's little experiment. Surely he'd be concerned for _that?_

They grappled wildly for several seconds, Leoben gripping her arms, Kara trying to get him in a headlock, her fingers flying, his upper body twisting and writhing. She didn't see the danger in that until just before he spun, solidifying his hold on her wrists, forcing her to stay still.

" _No!_ " Kara shouted, but he wasn't listening, his face blank and impassive.

Something blew up right outside the apartment with an earsplitting bang, and the flash blinded her for a moment, made her gasp involuntarily. It was all the distraction Leoben needed.

He released her for the barest of seconds, pulling back his fist.

The punch felt like another explosion, inside her head. Kara groped blindly forward, still trying to find him still hoping she might land a lucky hit …

… and he struck her again, and she overbalanced, and toppled.

The world went dark.

***

Sam raced along a corridor, resistance members ahead and behind, the air a riot of smoke and screams. His ears were still ringing from that trick Adama had pulled with _Galactica_ , jumping it right into the atmosphere and sending it plummeting toward the ground. It was an interesting strategy, and it had certainly worked, allowing them to activate Vipers on the surface and take out the gun emplacements along the detention center. Now Sam and the rest of the resistance were responsible for freeing the prisoners and directing them toward the evacuation ships.

And there sure were a hell of a lot of 'em. Not evacuation ships — gods, he _wished_ there were more of _those_ — but prisoners. Half the population of New Caprica seemed to be in here for one reason or another, and they were all in varying states of health. Those who had just been brought in during the recent sweeps seemed okay; they were dirty and frightened but otherwise unharmed. They could take care of themselves once they'd been let out.

But the others … the ones who'd been there for a couple of months, or sometimes even since the beginning of the occupation … they were scary. Their eyes were what got Sam the most, the way they stared not at you but _through_ you, like you didn't exist at all. The bruises and scratches on their faces that were likely the least of their injuries, judging by the way they moved, or didn't. Many of them had to be carried out. Some walked, but at such a slow pace that they needed to be chivvied along by their rescuers.

Through all of it, Sam peered into every face, memorized every name he knew, looking for one person and one person only.

It was selfish and stupid, to be concerned for a single human being when there were hundreds trapped in here. But he couldn't help himself.

And he was sure it was what Lee would want.

 _Kara, godsdammit, where are you?_

She hadn't been among the initial waves of prisoners they'd freed. Sam knew that. He would have seen her. But they were in one of the last hallways now, setting explosive charges on all the doorways and bars. The explosives operatives were calling for everyone to move back.

 _What are the chances?_

What if the Cylons had decided on a different fate than detainment for her? She'd been pregnant. Suppose that gave them ideas?

Had they set up Farms here?

He wouldn't put it past them, the bastards.

The charges detonated, blowing neat holes in the bars and adding their popping explosions to the cacophony of other noises. People poured out of the open doorways. Sam looked frantically at each of them. _Not Kara. Not Kara. Not Kara._

Dammit!

There was one last door at the very end of the hall, a door that had been blown open like the rest of them, but nobody had emerged from that room. He headed in that direction immediately. It was a long shot, no question about it. But he had to know. Kara had never given up on _him_. She had kept pestering Adama, and Lee had helped, and eventually a rescue party had come back to Caprica for Sam and his team. He owed her.

He owed her son, his nephew, who was hopefully safe now. Hopefully a long way away from all of this.

Sam raised his gun to the door and kicked it open, casting about for opponents. There didn't seem to be any in sight, so he barreled inside, almost tripping over a body sprawled at the head of a staircase.

He looked down quickly, planning only to plot the fastest way past the person — a Cylon, no doubt — and felt his mouth drop open in shock.

It was Kara.

Kara, unconscious on her side, her arms above her head, hair a mess and dark circles under her eyes, the swell of her pregnancy large under her shirt. But still _Kara_.

Unconscious. Or dead.

His breath caught in his throat and he dropped to his knees, slipping two fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse. It was there, strong and steady. So she was just knocked out. _Thank the gods_. A hand on her abdomen proved that the baby was active inside — subdued, but active.

Sam pulled her to a sitting position, embraced her tightly, relief flooding through him. "Gods, am I glad to see you," he murmured as he hoisted her into his arms. "Lee'll be happy too. Come on, I'm gonna get you out of here."

***

The battlestar hung in space.

It was stationary, surrounded, swarmed. Hordes of Cylon Raiders poured over it like gnats, laying down fire, the bright flashes illuminating the darkness of space. Had it been able to move, to flee, it would have, but the faster-than-light drive was one of the first things to go, victim to the Raiders. Now, there was nothing to be done but take the pounding. Nothing to do except wait for the end.

That end would come quickly. Four starfish-shaped basestars were moving in, silent predators ready to unleash hell. They spun slowly on their axes, missile batteries aiming toward the defenceless battlestar, fire beginning to bloom along its flank as the opposition's weaponry connected. It wouldn't take much. One more direct nuclear blast, perhaps two. A chain reaction would begin, one compartment exploding and then another and another, until the ship's existence was reduced to so much cosmic dust floating among the stars.

Then —

 _Flash._

A detonation.

But its source was not the beleaguered battlestar.

Another missile streaked through space, finding its mark directly in the bulk of one of the basestars.

This confused the Cylon Raiders greatly as they pivoted around to divine the source of the new threat. Several vanished immediately in identical balls of flame.

Aboard the battlestar _Galactica_ , the Admiral of the fleet looked up in surprise. Through the sparking electronics and haze of smoke that clouded his CIC, he tried to see the DRADIS screen.

Aboard the battlestar _Pegasus_ , Lee Adama allowed his eyes to slide briefly closed, and a silent sigh of relief to slip past his lips. _He's still there. He's okay._ Perhaps not for much longer, but the backup had arrived. And that was what counted. That was _all_ that counted. Quickly he snatched up the comms receiver.

" _Galactica_ , _Pegasus_ , let us take some of this work off your hands. Get your FTL up and ready, and we'll take care of the rest." Lee covered the mouthpiece with his palm and called out, "All right, fire up that main battery!"

"They're coming about," Dee warned, her eyes on the DRADIS console. "Maneuvering to bracket us."

"Steady as she goes, take us right into the centre," he directed.

Across the CIC, their gazes met, hers asking him to confirm what he had already confirmed at least a dozen times throughout the planning of this mission.

"We won't last long in there," she reminded him softly.

"We don't need to." He allowed only the barest tinge of regret to colour his tone.

 _This is the plan._

And if it gets Kara and the New Caprica colonists off that godsdamned planet, it'll be worth it.

The next several minutes passed in a riot of confusion as they headed deep into the teeth of the battle. Like _Galactica_ , they were working with a skeleton crew, so each officer had three or four extra tasks to complete in addition to the ones for which they would typically be responsible. Dee was simultaneously speaking with _Galactica_ and with engineering, while Lee watched the screen and fed her coordinates. Plotting a course through the fighting that would result in the least amount of destruction possible was not a simple task, especially as they had no Vipers to defend their flanks. Those were back with the civilian fleet, ready to defend it against any Cylons that should happen to show up.

At a hand signal from Dee, Lee tore his eyes away from the enemy baseships on the screen for just a moment to see _Galactica_ 's signal vanish. More relief flooded him. They had gotten the FTL drive repaired. They were away.

And now that the majority of the civilian ships had also jumped, there was but one thing left to do.

"Set main batteries to autofire cycle B and lock engines ahead flank," Lee ordered, thankful that his voice sounded far steadier than he felt. When he picked up the comms receiver, his hand did not shake. "This is the Commander. Abandon ship. I say again, all hands abandon ship. Report to evac Raptors and jump to rendezvous point. Good work, and I'll see you on the other side."

Dee had already sprung into action before he'd finished speaking, and was busy hustling the remaining personnel out of CIC. "All right, people, let's move, let's go!"

She paused in the doorway and turned, a small smile creasing her lips.

"You too, Commander."

Somehow, he managed a smile of his own. "Yes, sir."

But he didn't follow her just yet.

Instead Lee stopped by the command console. He rested his hand on it. He looked around.

This was supposed to be a new start.

For a long time, for a single, blissful year, it had been.

They'd had nothing in front of them but hope.

Now it was in ruins, much like the CIC itself, glass shattering from the windows, wires sparking and arcing, myriad small fires burning. Very little remained of the pristine command centre Lee had once taken over. He'd ordered Kara to her death here, then had her returned to him, a gift for which he would never adequately be able to thank Kendra Shaw.

But damned if he and Kara hadn't tried to squeeze all the life possible out of that one year. They had _lived_. They'd made love right in this CIC, as a matter of fact, right over the console he was touching. And while Lee knew that some medical professionals and maybe even Kara herself would contradict him, he liked to imagine their second child had been conceived there.

Maybe to get them back, he had to give something up.

He would, gladly.

Lee paused again in the doorway, whispering a quiet word of thanks to the _Pegasus_. She had done all she could.

So had he.

It was up to Kara now.

 _I'll see you on the other side._


	64. Chapter 64

Consciousness returned abruptly, and it brought with it the sense of motion.

She was moving, but not because she wanted to.

Someone was carrying her.

To grapple with her captor was automatic, since she knew there was only one person who would be carting her ass across the detention centre right now. He had said he'd be back — she must have passed out — so now he was _holding_ her, and she wanted to retch. But there wasn't time.

Instead Kara twisted in his arms, striking out, hoping to land a lucky hit (hell, _any_ kind of hit) or to knee him or poke out his eye or —

She was so focused on those goals that her knees nearly buckled when he set her down.

He was saying something, something she didn't want to listen to.

And his hands were too big.

Kara couldn't believe it was _this_ which finally made her pause, but it did. Leoben had grabbed at her so many times in the preceding few months that she'd learned what his hands felt like, dry and pasty and not a little thin, though their grip was complicated to break. These hands were larger, gentler, callused from tossing and catching pyramid balls —

" _Sam?_ "

The word flew out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"Kara, shh, it's all right, I've got you, I promise —"

His voice.

She finally opened her eyes, dreading what — _who_ — she'd find.

But it was Sam.

Sam, his brown hair caked with plaster dust, dirt streaking his face, but still _Sam_ , there and whole and _real_. Looking at him now it seemed impossible to imagine that he'd been a few days removed from death by pneumonia the last time she had seen him. Now he was healthy and strong and everything she remembered, everything she'd been trying to block out, everything she'd convinced herself she would never see again and must learn to forget.

And if Sam was here and real — did that mean …?

She wanted so desperately to believe it.

Impulsively her arms wound around him in a hug, and after a moment of apparent hesitation he embraced her back. Kara fought to keep control of herself as she asked, "Is it really you?"

"It's really me," he promised, his voice thick with relief. "But listen, we don't have time. We're going to the ships, so you and the baby can get the hell back to Lee and —"

"Where's Kacey?" she interrupted suddenly.

Kara couldn't believe herself.

Couldn't _believe_ she'd gone this long without asking and without _making sure_.

Frantically, without even waiting for his answer, she scanned every face.

Resistance members. Some she knew, some she didn't. Some people who looked like Marines. Several other prisoners.

But no little girl.

"Who's Kacey?" Sam pulled back in confusion.

" _Kacey!_ " She searched his features for recognition. He _had_ to know. If he'd been to the apartment and gotten her, he had to have seen Kacey too. "She's my daughter!"

Sam's eyes flicked to her abdomen; she could see him trying to put pieces together and dammit, they didn't have _time_. "But Kara, aren't you still —"

Kara turned, looked back down the corridor. It seemed mostly empty, but passable. Could she make it before the last of the ships took off from New Caprica?

She'd have to.

And she couldn't make Sam understand. He'd just have to trust her.

Without another word she spun and took off, ignoring the shouts of protest as she pushed past rescuers and prisoners alike, paying Sam no heed as he yelled for her to come back. Running was awkward as hell and her lungs already burned after the first several steps, but Kara didn't stop. She didn't _want_ to go back, didn't want to face that place again. Neither did she have any kind of choice.

 _I can't leave her._

I can't leave her to the toasters like I left him.

 _She's my child, just like he was._

It occurred to Kara as she clattered down several flights of stairs that she had no idea where she was going, nor even if this was the right direction. There wasn't any way to find out. She just had to hope that she'd recognize the hallway where her apartment — _cell_ — was.

And that she could get in there.

And that the skinjob wouldn't have come back yet.

And that Kacey would still be in the bed.

The lights dimmed and sputtered out as Kara raced along. The power to the detention complex must be out. But that wouldn't help her. She needed to see where she was going.

Impulsively she shot her hand out and grasped the wall. One doorway, then another, then another slid past as she ran, slowed, and finally walked along the corridor. She was too winded, and it was too dark, for anything else. Kara tamped down on a rising sense of panic and kept stumbling forward.

 _I have to get her. I have to._

Gods, please let me find her. Please.

She knew, without even needing to think about it much, that she wouldn't be able to leave the planet if she didn't have her daughter. No matter _what_ Sam said.

Kara continued to grope blindly. One hallway, then another. They all looked the same.

Then —

A flicker of light.

Light, at the very end of the corridor.

She ran again, tripping and stumbling over bits of ceiling plaster and detritus. For a long while the light didn't seem to be getting any closer, and then suddenly she was there, peering through a door that had been flung open, hardly daring to hope.

Was it —?

Stairs sofa bulletproof glass ugly blue tapestry —

 _Yes_.

Kara scrambled down the stairs, already yelling at full volume, willing her little girl to answer her. " _Kacey!_ Kacey, honey, where are you? _Kacey!_ "

Living area. No. Dining area. No. Washroom. No. Bedroom —

No.

 _No! Godsdammit, she has to be here!_

Kara leaned into the wall near the stairs, panting and clutching the stitch in her side, exhaustion finally beginning to seep through the adrenaline. The panic was rising to join it, making her heart and breath judder along.

 _I left Will and he died. Now she's gone …_

" _Kacey!_ " Kara bellowed at the top of her lungs.

A door creaked.

She jerked her head upward.

Felt her next yell lodge in her throat.

Leoben was walking unhurriedly down the stairs. Holding Kacey's hand.

The toddler looked solemn, but unhurt and _alive_.

"I knew you'd be back." Leoben's lips curved into a smile. "I saw it."

"Give me Kacey," Kara said flatly. Her tone brooked no room for argument.

He cocked his head to the side, pausing on the next-to-last step. "Say the words."

Kara held out her arms. "You took my son already. You have _no right_ to take her too. Now _give her to me_."

"Say them," Leoben replied.

"What _words?_ " she snapped.

"You know what I want." His grip tightened on the little girl's hand. "I want to hear you say them. And I want the rest of it. Just like I told you."

Panic seized her fully now, and this time, she could not fight it. There wasn't any way around giving him what he wanted. Even if she did, there was no guarantee he'd keep his end of the deal, none at all. In fact, Kara was convinced he'd break it. He would probably claim that Kacey was half his, and so if Kara wanted her, she'd have to stay. And then he'd lock them up and the whole damn cycle would begin all over again, until Lee's son or daughter was born and Leoben took him or her too. _Unless_ Kara found some magical escape route — unlikely — or a weapon she could use …

A weapon.

She swallowed.

The chance was slim, but under the circumstances, she had no choice. _Kacey_ had no choice, and neither did Kara's unborn child.

"Fine." Kara forced herself to look directly at him. She stared into his eyes. They were blue, like her husband's, but at that moment she could perceive none of Lee's customary warmth. "I love you."

Leoben gazed at her, admiringly. He took a step closer.

"Say it again."

"I love you." Kara layered her voice with more determination. If he could get a _little_ closer … if she could distract him …

Leoben cupped her face in his hands. Her stomach flipped uncomfortably at the sensation but she leaned into his touch, imagining Kacey behind her, depending on her. Everything depended on this. Everything depended on whether she could convince the toaster that his little mind games had finally worked.

Kara pressed her lips to his, initiating the kiss, fighting the urge at the same time to clench her fists and shove him away. For her plan to work, he had to believe she was doing this completely of her own free will. He had to be so distracted by her mouth on his that he wouldn't notice where her hands were.

The embrace seemed several minutes long, but by the time Leoben pulled away, she still hadn't achieved her goal, and the doubts were creeping in again. Ordinarily she would have reprimanded herself for even _thinking_ negatively, but she could hardly breathe. Her throat felt jammed shut. She knew with certainty that she _couldn't_ kiss him again, that she'd be sick if she tried. But she didn't have what she needed.

Time. There had to be more frakking _time_.

"Was it everything you thought it would be?" Kara choked out.

"That and more," Leoben nodded, the same serene smile on his face. He tenderly stroked her cheek. "I'll never forget this moment."

It was an effort to keep from shaking now. The skinjob was moving even closer, pressing his body to hers, his fingers threading in her hair. She'd been right, of course. He wanted more. And it didn't seem like he cared very much how he got it.

 _I can't. I can't I can't._

Beneath her ribs, the baby stirred.

Leoben's smile widened.

 _If I can't do this, I'll have to keep my promise._

Kara squeezed her eyes closed and tipped her head forward, hissing, "Neither will I," before she kissed him again with a fierceness that she hoped would translate as passion in his mind. Leoben responded instantly, parting his lips immediately when Kara licked them.

The temptation to bite his tongue was almost overwhelming, but she laid a hand on his shoulder instead and trailed it down, stopping to caress and squeeze his arm, and the parts of her mind that were not focused on her immediate goal imagined someone else. Someone she had allowed herself to consider only twice in four months, someone caring and loving, someone just as flawed as she, in his own way. Someone who, she hoped, would be waiting for her if she ever got the hell out of here.

Yes, she could pretend he was here — kissing her — if she held her breath, if she didn't inhale, because her heightened sense of smell would ruin the illusion … she could do it.

He kept kissing her, fiercely, his arms pinning her to the wall, and Kara found the pocket of his pants — groped — his tongue licked at hers — her fingers slid inside his pocket — one of his hands drifted to her stomach, caressing — again she fought the automatic impulse to pull away, her skin crawling as he tried to feel her child kick — she pushed deeper into the pocket — felt something — long and thin — metal — _a handle — yes —_

Relief washed through her veins, hot and potent as ambrosia.

Slowly Kara withdrew the knife.

The act itself was simple and rapid. Stab under the ribs, twist once, twice, making sure to puncture several internal organs along the way. She felt the blade piercing him as she drove it in and she felt the instant that _he_ noticed, sensed his lips jumping against hers, his eyes opening wide. Kara broke their kiss immediately and peeled his hand off her abdomen; it contorted in hers as she pushed him and he fell, twitching, to the floor. His life puddled around him.

Kacey watched, her eyes wide.

Kara let the knife drop. She slumped back against the wall and sucked in a breath that was more of a gasp than anything else.

It wasn't over.

As though to prove her point, the door at the head of the stairs burst open. For a singular moment, Kara panicked — could Leoben have returned _already?_ — before reminding herself that it wasn't possible, that it usually took him several hours at least to download and make his way back to the detention centre.

And indeed, when she looked up, she saw only Sam, framed in the doorway and scanning for hostiles. He lowered his weapon as soon as he spotted her, and she could see the questions forming on his lips.

Kara didn't give him a chance to ask any of them. She simply scooped up Kacey, who had neither moved nor spoken in the last several minutes, and headed up the stairs.

"I'll explain later," she snapped as she flew by her friend. "Let's move."

***

The first person Lee saw when he stepped off the evac Raptor on _Galactica_ was his son, safely ensconced in Bill Adama's arms. Will was scanning the crowd furiously, and as soon as his eyes found Lee, he tugged on his grandfather's uniform and pointed to the Raptor, evidently excited. The toddler reached the boarding ramp before his father had set foot on the hangar deck.

" _Daddy Daddy Daddy!_ " Will cried, arms thrust upwards in a clear demand for a hug. Lee complied immediately, and couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as his son's arms wound around him. They squeezed each other tightly.

"I guess you didn't understand my orders, huh?" spoke up a second voice.

Lee glanced up to see his own father, doing a very poor job of hiding a wide smile. He shrugged in apology. "Never could read your handwriting."

Relief coursed through him as they hugged, Will between them once again, but that relief was tempered as Lee began to scan the hangar deck, unsure if he was enticing or torturing himself with the search for one particular face.

"Dad?" he asked hesitantly as they separated. "Have — have you seen Kara come back at all?"

Bill sighed, shaking his head. "Not yet, son, I'm sorry. But there are still a few Raptors to come in from the surface, and the ships that were on New Caprica have also rejoined the fleet. It's possible she might have gotten away on one of those if she didn't catch a Raptor."

"Right," Lee mumbled. He tried to smile as he moved away, but it came out looking more like a grimace.

"Daddy?" Will was tapping his shoulder and pointing at something behind him.

Lee whirled, hope flaring momentarily, but could see only Colonel Tigh being helped off one of the arriving Raptors. The colonel looked extremely rough (and that, Lee thought, was saying something). A large white bandage was taped over one of his eyes, and he leaned unsteadily on a makeshift cane. He seemed — Lee was shocked to find himself thinking this way — simply _old_ , for the first time in a very long while.

And he was alone.

Will stared openly. "Daddy, what happened?"

"I don't know, buddy," answered Lee. It was the truth. "Listen, let's — let's go look for your mama, okay?"

"Mama _here?_ " The boy bounced excitedly.

Lee bit his lip uncertainly. The answer, of course, was that he had no idea, and no clue as to where he should even start searching in this crowd. He had promised his son she'd be back, and he had also, to a certain extent, promised himself the same thing. But suppose he told Will Kara was there before he knew for certain she'd made it back? Will would never trust him again.

"We're going to find out," he replied, splitting the difference. "Come on. Let's see."

***

On the other side of the hangar deck, Kara accepted Sam's hand, letting him help her climb from the Raptor.

Her mind whirled with questions as she picked Kacey up again.

They'd been returned to _Galactica_ , not _Pegasus_. So where the hell was the other battlestar?

Had it really been destroyed, as one of their fellow evacuees said he'd heard?

Sam had gotten pissed at that, and had argued with the man — Kara suspected on her behalf, and so she didn't do anything to discourage him. Life unfolded moment to moment, a state of affairs which suited her just fine, because she didn't want to _think_.

Now, though, she was back on _Galactica_ , and the questions were returning.

Kara clutched Kacey, breathing deeply, shutting out everything but her daughter.

She couldn't rule out the possibility that this might be some frakked-up dream.

"Oh, my gods." The voice of Galen Tyrol, off to her right, startled Kara. "Captain! I thought you were dead!"

She gazed at him, incomprehension on her face for the barest of moments.

 _I was in his tent. Before._

Kara finally allowed herself a small smile, but she directed it at Kacey. "Yeah … so did I."

Galen followed her look, starting to grin too. "And who's this?"

"Yeah, I was gonna ask that myself," Sam spoke up from behind her. His tone held no condemnation, just curiosity.

Cold fear washed over her for an instant. Did they know about Will yet? Would they think she'd just randomly picked up this kid and was using her as a replacement for her son? How would they react to the fact that Kacey was not only a half-Cylon, but had been fathered by the toaster who'd kept Kara cooped up in a dollhouse for four months?

Did she have to tell them?

She decided, on the spot, that she didn't.

Kara allowed her smile to widen, which wasn't difficult as she gazed down at the child. "This," she began, ruffling Kacey's hair, "is —"

"Kacey?" interrupted a tentative voice from behind them.

Kara would have paid no attention, but for the way Kacey turned automatically, looking toward the woman who had spoken. She was shorter than Kara and plainly dressed, with a heavy overcoat and a kerchief over her blonde hair. And she was smiling, reaching out to Kacey … and Kacey was reaching _back_.

"Oh, my little girl!" the woman was exclaiming as she took Kacey into her arms. "Oh, Mommy missed you so much!"

"Mommy!" Kacey exclaimed happily, throwing her arms around the newcomer.

"When the Cylons took her I — I thought — but you _saved_ her!" the woman told Kara, jubilant. "Gods bless you!"

Kara couldn't speak.

Her throat had jammed shut again.

Part of her considered snatching Kacey back, demanding to know what right the woman thought she had to claim her in the first place, loudly saying that this was _her_ child and that anyone who disagreed could go frak themselves. She would have done all that in a second were it not for the expression on Kacey's face.

Kara recognized that expression.

It was the way Will used to look at _her_. A look that said, unquestionably, _You are my mother_ , and conveyed all the attachment of a child to a parent.

And Kacey had called the woman _Mommy_.

She'd never called Kara that.

Kara gazed toward the far end of the hangar deck, toward the people starting to cheer and celebrate and chant Bill Adama's name. She didn't feel like she belonged with them.

She didn't feel like she belonged _anywhere_.

The lie had been so complete, so perfect, so intricately designed to prey upon the emotions she'd felt after Will's death. She believed the lie because she needed to. Because to do anything else would crush her.

But it _was_ a lie.

She clutched at her abdomen reflexively, nightmarish images flashing through her mind. Would they take _this_ child from her, too?

 _Yeah, like you didn't almost do that yourself._

Nausea bubbled in her throat.

She felt a hand on her arm and jumped for real.

"Kara?" It was Sam, sounding cautious. "What — what was that all about?"

"Don't know," Kara lied. The urge to leave, to get off the hangar deck and simply _run_ , was crawling up her spine and she couldn't resist it any longer.

"The little girl —"

"I thought she was mine but she obviously _wasn't_ ," she snapped. "So just drop it, okay?"

"Fine," he sighed. "We should be getting you back to your own family, anyway."

 _What family?_ Kara thought acidly.

 _My dead son?_

My baby whom I would _have killed if I'd been on that planet any longer?_

My husband who'll probably want to get as far away from me as possible once he figures those things out?

She closed her eyes, taking another shuddering breath as the baby squirmed.

"Mama?"

 _Great. Now I'm frakking hearing things._

She could have sworn Will had spoken, just there, just for a moment.

But that was impossible.

Will was dead.

And the sooner she started accepting that for the truth it was, the better off she'd be.

"Mama!"

Unless she'd _already_ gone crazy.

The possibility couldn't be ruled out, since she had just heard Will _again_ , and this time the noise sounded closer, like he was running towards her or something.

Kara didn't open her eyes. If she opened her eyes, she wouldn't see him, and that would be ten times worse.

She realized she could hardly recall the exact colour of his hair anymore.

"Kara. Hey." Sam touched her shoulder again.

"Sam, I _said_ —"

Something collided very suddenly with the bottoms of her legs, almost jolting her backwards. Kara's eyes flew involuntarily open and she glanced down, down to the pressure on her knees, which had not ceased. Small hands were holding her, clutching her, and for one crazy moment she thought Kacey was back to tell her it had all been a huge mistake. But that couldn't be true either.

Kacey was gone too.

Instead — she caught her breath — _Will_ was wrapped around her, his arms stretched upward in a silent request to be picked up.

 _No._

You're gone.

You're gone!

His grin was wide and familiar when he caught her looking. "Up!" he commanded happily, like no time had passed at all.

Like _nothing_ had happened.

But he was dead. He was supposed to be dead.

"Sam?" Kara whispered. Her voice did not sound like her own.

"It's okay." Sam squeezed her shoulder gently and she seized on the pressure, grounding herself. "He's here, Kara. He's fine. I got him off New Caprica when the invasion started. I made sure he was safe."

The words slid around in her mind, falling apart into strange syllables. She watched as Sam knelt and spoke softly to her son, words she couldn't hear. Her breath caught when they embraced, Will flinging his arms around his uncle, grinning and laughing while Sam lifted him.

She wanted it to be real. _Needed_ it to be real.

But it couldn't be.

"You all right to take him?" Sam asked presently. Will was now reaching toward his original target again, straining to get to his mother.

"Yeah," Kara said dumbly, and opened her arms.

She told herself that she must maintain her defences, that the emotionless mask must be kept at the ready, but those stern words evaporated the moment Will slipped into her embrace. She could _feel_ his weight — heavier than the last time she'd held him, a distant part of her brain noted — and his arms going around her and squeezing her fiercely. His hair, darker now, though still blonde, brushed against her cheek. His breath blew at her neck. He was in every way that mattered, _real_.

"We missed you." The boy patted her shoulder, still smiling. "Me an' Daddy an' G'apa."

"I missed you too," she murmured back, because she couldn't think of anything she wanted to do in that moment other than hold him and not ever let go.

"An' nobody knowed where you were," Will related. "An' Daddy was _scared_ —"

"Lee!" Sam interjected, turning to the crowd and raising a hand over his head to call attention to himself. "Over here!"

Kara's grip on her son tightened. She felt as though she'd been hooked up to an electric current.

Someone was pushing his way through the throngs of people, following Sam's shout, and an instant later, she could see.

He looked exhausted. His uniform was smoke-stained and his hair mussed. It was longer, too, than the last time she'd seen him.

But Lee's eyes were the same.

And then he was right in front of her. So close she could breathe him in, and she knew by the look on his face that he wanted to hold her, but Kara could not let go of Will.

Lee solved the problem soon enough, wrapping his arms around both of them, enfolding her in an embrace that she returned one-handed. For a moment Kara could only breathe, her eyes closed and her cheek pressed to his. She felt him shaking a little, and could not think of anything to say.

"Hey," Lee said finally, and kissed her cheek.

Her fingers found his hair. Stroked the back of his neck.

"You need a haircut," Kara blurted out.

"Oh?" Lee arched an eyebrow, but didn't look otherwise surprised. "And this is in your considered, professional opinion?"

"Yeah. Makes you look … I dunno, scruffy."

She wanted to hear him laugh, needed to hear him laugh, but he didn't. Instead Lee smiled, and took a deep breath.

"I missed you, Kara," he said softly. "I missed …"

 _Please don't_ , she thought.

"I missed _both_ of you," Lee continued, his hand slipping down to her abdomen. The baby prodded his palm, and he grinned. "She's kicking now."

" _He_ ," Kara corrected absently. To continue the familiar debate was stupid at a time like this, but she needed a distraction. She needed to feel something other than the sensation that the walls of the hangar deck were closing in around her.

"Nah, this one's a girl," he bantered. "I know it."

"That's what you said for Will."

Lee flicked a strand of hair back from her face. "Not this time. She's special."

And there it was: the plunging feeling, the questions crowding her mind, the promise she'd made, the act she'd almost carried out.

 _Your unborn child is special, Kara. I'm going to set her free._

She took a breath, and did the only thing she knew of to quiet him completely.

Kara pressed her lips to Lee's, fast and hard and unforgiving, kissing him until he responded and the noise of the hangar deck and the crowds chanting the Admiral's name and the tearful reunions of refugees faded.

Until the questions too quieted.

Until she didn't have to think anymore.


	65. Chapter 65

She had shut down.

Lee couldn't think of any other way to describe it. He was used to Kara hiding secrets behind bravado and brash humour. But this was completely different. It was as though someone had reached inside and torn out an essential part of her, without which she was incapable of functioning.

She hadn't smiled once since their reunion.

She wasn't smiling now.

Lee wanted to go over to Sam, to shake his hand and in some inadequate way thank him — for frak's sake, the man had practically saved Lee's entire family — but Kara tugged abruptly on his uniform, forcing them away from the Raptor, through the throngs of refugees and officers and deckhands, towards one of the corridors leading off the hangar deck.

"I need to get out of here," was all the explanation she offered.

He nodded his understanding, allowing himself to be led along hallways that were suddenly packed with people. It seemed strange and incongruous after a year of echoing metal and emptiness. Most of the crowd appeared to have no idea where it was going, or even if it _should_ be going somewhere. Lee wondered if he was supposed to help direct traffic. But Kara's hand was still in his, and he couldn't let go, not now, not after four months of not knowing whether he'd ever see her again.

She was completely silent, not looking anyone in the eye and not altering her brisk pace until they reached a corridor that was comparatively quiet, with only a few refugees milling around. Kara leaned against a bulkhead and adjusted Will in her arms; he grinned and hugged her again.

"Where's _Pegasus_?" She'd directed the question at the steel deck plating under their feet, but Lee knew it was meant for him.

"Gone," he said simply, and the truth cut him more deeply than he had expected. The loss of his ship hadn't fully sunk in. "We sacrificed her in the battle so that _Galactica_ and the civilian ships could jump away."

"Oh," was the reply. She shifted Will again. "So what, we're frakkin' homeless now?"

"Kara, no. Dad will find a place for us on this ship. And we're even more eligible for married quarters than we were the last time we lived on _Galactica_ , so …" Lee trailed off at the look on her face. "What?"

Kara tilted her head upwards, apparently determinedly not looking at him. "Nothing."

"Is he getting too heavy? I can take him," Lee offered, gesturing to their son.

Her grip tightened, and she pulled Will back flush with her shoulder again, resting her cheek on his head for several moments. "No."

He knew he shouldn't press. He also knew that, more than likely, she would accuse him of trying to take care of her. But the words were rushing up to his mouth so quickly that he couldn't stop himself from saying them.

"Yeah, well, you look like you're about ready to drop, Kara. And I'm — I want to know that the baby's okay." _That you're okay, despite how you seem._ "I think we should go down to sickbay and get someone to take a look at you."

"The baby is _fine_ ," Kara gritted out through clenched teeth.

"How do you know?" he challenged. It was only with effort that the question came out civilly.

" _Don't_ ask me that." Her eyes flashed. "I know, and if that's not enough for you, too godsdamned bad, Lee. Deal with it."

Lee nearly opened his mouth to retaliate, but he could see Will looking between them, wide-eyed, and he knew this wasn't the reunion he'd wanted his son to see. So instead he held up his arms in a gesture of surrender, moving to squeeze her shoulder. "Okay, all right, we won't if you don't want —"

Kara jerked back as his fingers made contact, her face registering both surprise and alarm, and he jumped too, equally shocked by her reaction. The motion threw her off-balance and she scrabbled for a handhold, finding no purchase on the smooth metal of the corridor's wall. Lee stepped calmly into the breach, wrapping both his arms around her until she could find her feet again. It was so good to feel her once more, to hold her like this.

"I've got you," he promised softly, and resisted the urge to press a kiss to her hair. "Just relax, all right?"

She didn't.

Her eyes were wild, haunted, reminding him of a captured animal's.

Lee attempted a joke. "Guess that clumsiness is back, huh?"

Still Kara wouldn't look at him.

"Please let go?"

She was biting her lip, but clearly she'd spoken.

"Okay." This time he did kiss her, trying not to notice the way she stiffened further as his lips touched her hair, before gently easing his arms out from around her. "Just trying to help, that's all."

"Yeah, well, I don't frakking need it." Her voice stronger now, Kara pushed off the wall and started walking again. Lee hurried to catch up.

They'd traversed several more corridors, a vague plan starting to make itself known in Lee's mind, when Will squirmed and turned in his mother's arms. "We go home now?" he asked, looking hopefully from one parent to the other. "Go home?"

Kara said nothing for such a long moment that Lee knew he had no choice but to reply.

"Well, we — we have to find a new home now, buddy," he said cautiously. "Our old one's not there anymore."

Will frowned. "Why?"

"Aunt Dee and I were fighting the bad guys, and it … got wrecked," Lee explained, his tone somewhat stilted. In all honesty he had absolutely no idea how to tell his son _Pegasus_ had been destroyed. "We're going to live on Grandpa's ship now."

"Live with G'apa?" The boy brightened.

Lee nearly reached out to tousle his son's hair, but thought better of it, unsure how Kara might react. "Not _with_ Grandpa, just on the same ship. Your mama and I lived here before you were born, and for a few months after. So I was thinking we'd go back to our old quarters for a little while."

Barely before he'd finished speaking, Kara was shaking her head. "One frakking bedroom, Lee. What the hell are you gonna do, cram the kids into the bed and make us sleep on the floor?"

"Kara, it wouldn't be permanent. You know that. Just until Dad can set us up somewhere better, which I'm sure he'll do before the baby comes. Besides …" Lee hesitated, suddenly unsure how to proceed.

" _What?_ " She was glaring again.

"I've been letting Will sleep in my bed," he explained with a sigh. "While you were … gone, it — it seemed to make him feel safe. He was having nightmares, toileting accidents. And he kept wanting to come into my bed anyway, and I was exhausted, so —"

"So what, you decided to let him get into a bad habit because you were _tired?_ How many other rules slid like that, huh? Did you start feeding him cake for breakfast, too, because that was _easier?_ "

Lee desperately wanted to point out the irony of _her_ lecturing _him_ on rule enforcement, but he sensed she wasn't in the mood. "Kara, no, of course not. Even the bed was meant to be a temporary thing. Now you're back, we can start easing him into sleeping on his own again."

"He needs _consistency_ , Lee," she hissed, Will staring warily over her shoulder once more. "And if we can't make up our minds what he should and shouldn't do, then how the hell's _he_ supposed to know?"

"You know what, I _tried_ for consistency, as hard as I damn well could, and it nearly killed us," Lee snapped. He was stunned almost to a stop when she began to laugh mirthlessly.

"You don't even know what that _means_." Kara's eyes had taken on their haunted appearance again.

"What _what_ means? Consistency?"

She faced him now, looking more than a little deranged. "What it means to be nearly killed," Kara said, her voice low, a bizarre little smile on her face. "And what it means to do the killing."

Lee arched an eyebrow, feeling a bit spooked all of a sudden. "Kara, what are you —"

"You'd be surprised what you can live through, Lee," she told him simply, before turning and continuing to walk.

***

In the end, they wound up back at their old quarters, by no means Kara's preference. She sensed it wasn't Lee's either, but what the hell kind of choice did they really have? As he'd aptly pointed out, with the influx of returning crewmembers and refugees aboard the ship, quarters for all the new people would take a long time to arrange, and as a couple with a young child and another on the way, hanging around on the hangar deck with the rest of the population was hardly an option for Kara and Lee. Idly, she wondered what Galen and Cally — who were arguably in the same situation — would do, and made a mental note to ask Lee about that later.

Kara seized on each distraction she could, no matter how small: the question of their friends' lodgings; Will's hand against her cheek; Lee's frequent glances at her; even her own fatigue, which threatened to crush her when she considered it. But it was far preferable to the alternative. Examining her situation and cataloguing the number of beliefs that had been flipped upside down in the last day would require _thinking_.

She didn't want it.

She wished she could turn off her mind, permanently.

And sleep destroyed fatigue, one of the only weapons she could wield against coherent thought.

Her son, however, had no such concerns burdening his own mind, and Kara wasn't surprised to find that Will had fallen fast asleep by the time they reached their old quarters. She once again declined Lee's offer of help, stepping carefully over the threshold and heading directly for the bedroom.

It was as they had left it, the bed still made with sheets and cover, albeit musty, and the furniture still in place, minus their personal possessions. Kara tucked Will into bed, her back to Lee as she spoke.

"Where's his bear?"

Lee sighed. "Dee has it, I think. It and some of his toys. There wasn't time to pack up everything, but … she's taking care of the really important stuff."

"He can't sleep without it." She kept her eyes studiously on her son. "Couple hours from now he'll wake up and want it, so unless you wanna be roused out of bed too …"

"Fine, I'll — I'll go track it down."

He did, and Kara did not move the whole time he was gone, preferring to weigh Will's hand in her own, to stroke the boy's fingers.

He'd grown since she saw him last. He was taller, heavier, much more like a little boy now than a baby or a toddler. His gait was steadier, and his speech was far more comprehensible. He was changing. Growing into the child, and then the man, that he would become.

And he was _alive_.

 _He's alive._

She watched the steady rise and fall of Will's chest, studying it like it was a flight manual she needed to memorize.

She couldn't stop just _looking_ at him.

He had survived.

So, against all odds, had the baby.

 _I won't let anyone hurt you. Not now, not ever._

Realistically, it was a promise she might not be able to keep.

But she needed to make it.

Just as she had needed to make the _other_ promise, the one she couldn't think about.

 _I gave up._

Which was something else she'd sworn would never happen. Yet it had. She had believed, right up until the moment she'd looked into Sam's face and hugged him, that she wouldn't be rescued. That there was no way to rescue herself. That the Cylons had learned from her actions at the Farm, and beefed up their security accordingly. That the only option left to her was to choose for herself, and for her unborn child, exactly what her fate would be and when it would occur.

Kacey was unexpected.

The girl hadn't changed Kara's plans, though.

So what the hell kind of person did that make her?

Did she even care anymore?

"Here we go."

Kara jumped.

Felt ridiculous when she saw it was only Lee — of _course_ it was Lee — having entered the room noiselessly. He set a teddy bear next to Will and looked at her, concerned.

"You frakking startled me, that's all," she snapped grumpily. Maybe he'd leave her alone if she sounded annoyed enough.

Lee ran a hand through his hair and crouched down next to the bed, one hand on the sheet, the other hovering uncertainly near her knee as though he wanted to touch her, but wasn't entirely certain it would be welcome. "Kara … it's okay. You don't have to explain anything to me. Really."

She snorted. "Right."

"I'm serious." His blue eyes were inscrutable. "If you don't feel like talking about — well, anything — then don't."

"Yeah, and how long's that gonna last, huh? I know you, Lee. It won't be long before you're asking questions, same as everyone else. You'll ask them nicely, but you'll still ask them. It always works like that."

"Look, if you're trying to imply I'm curious, sure, I'm curious," Lee said. "But I know that whatever happened down there must have been hard as hell."

Kara arched an eyebrow, disbelieving. "Yeah?"

Now he glanced away. "I heard … things."

" _What_ things?" she demanded.

Lee shifted on his feet. "Kara, we don't need to talk about this now."

She surprised him, and herself, by grabbing for his hand, tugging him towards her. "What. Things?"

To his credit, he didn't flinch then. "I told you Will was having nightmares. After some of them, stuff would come out. He'd just start talking, about what happened on the planet when the Cylons took over. It was filtered through his mind, obviously, but he managed to make quite a bit of sense."

Kara leaned forward slightly, curious about the momentary pain that had flitted across Lee's face as he spoke. "What'd he tell you?"

Lee shifted again, pulling himself up to sit gingerly next to her on the bed. "You have no idea how much I wanted to believe you were down there running the resistance with Sam and Tigh and Galen," he replied at length. "I think I did believe it for a while. I told myself it was easier than imagining the alternative. But a couple months after … after the invasion, Will had one of those nightmares. He told me that a bad man had come to Sam's tent. Looking for you. And it scared Sam so much that he knew he had to get Will out of there, right away. So he did."

"Four months ago he could barely breathe, Lee." She recited facts, so as to distract herself. "He had pneumonia … pretty bad, I think. High fever, coughing so hard he couldn't stand. Cottle said it would've cleared up in no time with antibiotics, but the docs had none left by then."

"Frak me," Lee muttered. His tone was awed. "Then how the hell did he get all the way from his tent to the evac Raptor without being detected?"

"Sam got Will to an evac Raptor?" It was Kara's turn to feel surprise shooting through her.

"Yeah, I don't … I don't know the full story. Racetrack did a ground jump, took a bunch of people back to _Pegasus_ from the surface. She told me later that Sam came running up to the Raptor with Will at almost the last minute, and he begged her to take him — just Will, not Sam himself. Sam didn't care about his own safety. He just wanted to make sure Will was okay."

"I didn't know," Kara mumbled, again unable to look at him.

And she hadn't. Sam had alluded to it on the hangar deck, but she'd been distracted, and he hadn't seemed all that inclined to pursue the topic of the rescue much beyond reassurance.

Why the hell did he do it, anyway?

She got the distinct impression sometimes that Sam still loved her, though he'd been very careful not to interfere in her relationship with Lee once she made her feelings clear. Certainly he loved Will, and Will adored him. But enough that Sam would leave his tent while seriously ill, and while a Cylon invasion was happening? There was no getting around the fact that Will _was_ Lee's, and from Sam's perspective, therefore more than likely partly responsible for Kara's committing to Lee.

Somehow, Sam must see past that.

Maybe he could glimpse Kara in Will, and that was what he loved.

Kara dragged her eyes back to Lee then.

Waited for him to ask the obvious question.

 _And where the hell were_ you _while all this was going on?_

Lee didn't, though.

Instead he took a deep breath, and asked an entirely different question.

"Can I … can I — hug you?"

Kara wanted to admonish him for asking permission, for thinking that he _needed_ to ask, but she stopped short.

She _didn't_ want it.

Would in fact have preferred to be across the room from him, keeping her distance, controlling whether and when and how he could touch her.

But if she said no, he _would_ wonder. He probably wouldn't be able to stop himself from asking why, and what explanation could she reasonably give?

 _Hands off, Lee, because my last act as the prisoner of a psychopathic crazy-ass Cylon was to kiss him and I'd really rather not relive the experience._

No. No _way_.

So Kara nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

She watched, tremulously, as he leaned toward her.

She ordered herself not to flinch when he touched her. She did anyway, and felt ridiculous.

 _Not Leoben._

Lee.

Your husband _, for gods' sake._

It was only slightly easier when his arms went around her and she caught his scent, musky with sweat but still _Lee_. At least there, Kara didn't need to pretend anymore. She didn't need to conjure it from beneath four months' worth of repression in a life-or-death situation. Instead she could take it in, pressed against him, as he squeezed her and his breath hissed gently in her ear and he suddenly began to kiss her neck —

"Don't," Kara had to say, quietly but fervently, punctuating the word with a jerk of her head to the side so that the contact ceased immediately. "Just — don't."

"Okay," Lee said.

 _Okay? Just okay? That's it?_

Clearly it was, because he went back to hugging her. Neither his hands nor his mouth wandered further.

Gratitude enveloped her, and Kara raised her own arms to encircle her husband. The rough cloth of his uniform added yet more familiarity, but the gesture itself was still alien. Lee seemed to like it, though, judging by the way his body began to unclench in her embrace.

"I love you," he whispered.

She shut her eyes.

 _You're gonna hold me in your arms, you're gonna embrace me, you're gonna tell me that you love me. I've seen it._

Lee was quiet, probably waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," Kara finally squeezed out.

His grip didn't lessen, but she could tell he must be disappointed. He liked hearing it from her, even though in the past he'd often tried to pretend it didn't matter.

 _I can't give you that right now._

I can't.

She refused to squirm away, though she wanted to.

Instead Kara concentrated on the baby's slow rolling.

She kept still, and waited for the embrace to end.

***

Lee woke alone.

He could tell immediately, even before he'd opened his eyes, that he was the only one left in the bed, and a wave of panic swept through him. Had she run off somewhere, and taken Will with her? Or worse, were the events of the rescue some cruel trick of his subconscious?

Maybe he'd dreamed the whole thing.

But no: listening now, he could hear sounds of movement in the next room, his son chattering excitedly, Kara's voice responding with occasional murmured comments. There was then a loud _thud_ , followed by gales of toddler giggling. Well, at least someone was having fun.

With a sigh Lee dropped back down against the pillow, rubbing at his eyes. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Kara hadn't lingered in bed, after the way she'd acted last night. She seemed to have developed an aversion to physical closeness of any kind, and while she did join him in bed, she'd spent much of the time before he fell asleep alternately looking at Will and staring around the room like a caged cat. She allowed him to rest his palm on her stomach, but only for a short time, and Kara carefully removed his fingers before he'd been able to feel much.

He hadn't asked any questions. He wasn't sure when he _would_.

Lee yawned and tugged himself wearily out of bed, dressing slowly. He probably could've used more sleep, but there were other important matters demanding his attention now.

"Hey, sleepy." Kara barely glanced up from her position on the couch, going through a stack of folders that had materialized beside her.

"What time is it?" Lee asked with another stifled yawn.

"Just past eight hundred hours," she replied, scribbling a signature on the page before her.

He arched an eyebrow. "You're doing paperwork?"

"Flight evals. Your dad dropped them off on his way to CIC, thought I might want to start getting caught up."

Lee wasn't keen to start the day with yet another argument, but he also knew he couldn't let her answer pass unobserved. "Kara, you — you don't need to start on those right away, dammit," he told her, feeling a hot surge of anger toward his father as he spoke the words. "I'm sure he meant for you to leave those until you felt like it."

"I feel like it now." She shrugged, infuriatingly.

"But —" Lee balled his hands into fists, taking deep breaths to release the annoyance. "Look, just because I'll probably be run off my feet today with a thousand and one administrative tasks, doesn't mean you have to be. You've … you've been away for four months, you don't need to catch up all in one day."

"I don't need the _reminder_ ," Kara snapped, her eyes flashing when she looked up. "What the hell would you have me do instead, anyway? Sit around and be a frakking baby machine?"

"That's not what I meant." He sighed and perched on the edge of the couch's arm, reluctant to sit directly next to her when she was in this kind of mood. Close to, Kara looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her face gaunt, the swell of her pregnancy seeming even larger under her shirt. He suddenly wondered if she'd slept at all the previous night. "I meant that your first priority should be to take care of yourself. To eat good food — or whatever the hell passes for it on this ship — and to get enough rest."

"Yes, _Mother_ ," she bit off sarcastically.

Lee looked away. "And I really do think we should go down to sickbay at some point today. Get someone to take a look at you, just to be absolutely sure."

"Frak you."

"Kara, I'm only thinking of —"

"The _baby_ , right?" A folder slapped noisily shut. "So I _am_ just a godsdamned baby machine to you, huh? That's nice, Lee. Really nice."

"Why are you putting words in my mouth?" he demanded, feeling his composure starting to slip. "Look, I care about the baby! Of course I do! But does that mean I can't care about _you_ , too? You're my wife, for frak's sake!"

"Yeah, and if you think that means I'll —"

"No fight!" Will interjected firmly, and both partners looked briefly away from each other to see that the toddler was now holding Kara's knees, a nervous pout on his face.

Instantly Kara smoothed her features into a smile, bending to scoop him up. "We're not fighting, baby, we're talking."

" _Loud_." The boy clapped his hands over his ears, as if for emphasis.

"He's got a point." Lee rubbed at his eyes.

Kara snorted. "And whose fault is _that_ , huh?"

"I told you I don't want to fight," Lee replied, after pausing to ensure his tone could be moderate again. "And I don't. But I also won't back down from things I feel are important. If that's my fault, well, I guess it's my fault. But Kara, I'm not you." (She snorted.) "I can't feel what you feel. I don't know enough to understand that everything's okay, and I can't carry the baby. All I've got to go on is your word."

"Which obviously doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot."

He ignored that. "Sometimes — and you and I are both guilty of this — we say we're fine when we really aren't. Or we say it when we just aren't sure, to save face. Or we say it when we're trying to avoid something. I know, I've used that trick myself, and you've called me on it. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't do the same for you."

"This isn't about your _feelings_ , Lee." But her voice was less certain, less sharp, as she stroked Will's hair.

"And that right there is known as trying to change the subject," Lee said patiently. "It's something we've also both done. I'm sorry, I can't … I can't just let this go."

It was her turn to look away, toward the hatch, for a long moment. So long that he got nervous, wondering if she was about to explode into another furious tirade, or simply shut down again, as she had just after the rescue. But Lee let the silence stretch, unwilling to be the first to break it.

"Is Cottle back?" Kara asked finally. She still wasn't making eye contact, but it was progress, of a sort.

Lee nodded. "I saw him in the corridor last night, on my way to get the stuff from Dee."

"He'll be too damn busy," she scoffed.

"Not for you. And even if we have to wait, well, we'll just have to wait. I could ask Karl or Cally to watch Will while we —"

"Will comes with us," Kara said flatly. "And what about _you?_ You probably don't have enough time in that busy schedule of yours to —"

Now _he_ interrupted _her_. "The schedule can damn well wait. I'm going."

In the seconds before she nodded, reluctantly, Lee thought he saw the faintest flicker of relief in Kara's eyes.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some dark, _dark_ stuff in this chapter, probably on a level with some of what occurred during the New Caprica arc itself. It's my personal opinion that none of the events are unexpected, given where the characters are emotionally right now, but that doesn't mean it wasn't extremely hard to write. Trauma, reactions to trauma and post-traumatic stress are all ongoing themes in this chapter, so if that material is at all problematic for you, it's probably best to give this one a miss. Fair warning.

"This is gonna be cold, so don't you yell down my whole sickbay when I put it on."

"Do I _look_ like I'd yell, Doc?"

Cottle actually chuckled. "That's what I like to hear. Now hold still."

Lee didn't miss the way Kara's eyes drifted to the ceiling, expressionless again, as the doctor spread clear gel over her bare stomach. It was strange — he had expected her attention to be caught by at least this part of the exam, since they would actually get to see the baby. Instead, she had inexplicably retreated into that cold detachment, and he wasn't sure how, or even _if_ , he could bring her out of it.

"What's that?" Will queried from his position on Lee's lap, pointing to the thin wand Cottle was pressing to Kara's abdomen.

"Uh … well, I don't know _exactly_ what it's called, but it makes a picture on that screen over there," Lee tried to explain. "That way we can see the baby while she's still inside Mama. Or he," he added hastily off glares from his wife and son.

"Oh, are we reviving that old debate?" Cottle spoke up as he watched the screen intently. "Allow me to put ten cubits on 'boy'."

"What?" Lee leaned forward, momentary indignation seizing him. "How — how the hell can you tell? All I see is a big dark blur."

"It's not on the screen yet, Commander." The doctor paused. "Major. Whatever the hell I'm supposed to call you. Just be patient."

Lee sighed inwardly. He was certain that the question of his rank — nebulous as that now was — would come up at the briefing he was to attend in the Admiral's quarters the next afternoon. He doubted Bill would blame him for the loss of the _Pegasus_. Under the circumstances, sacrificing the ship had been the only sensible thing to do, and it was the reason they weren't all dead or captured by the Cylons right now. Still, the fleet was minus one battlestar once more, putting them at a strategic disadvantage for future encounters. He would have some explaining to do.

"Here," Cottle barked, making Lee jump. "There's your kid, kids. The blinking dot is the heart, and to the right you can see the head. The hands are in front of the face, I think."

"Is she — is the baby okay?" Lee asked, feeling the panic threatening again,

"On first glance, looks like it. I'll have to take some measurements to make sure it's as big as it should be for the date. You're how far along now?" the doctor asked, addressing Kara.

Kara blinked several times, sliding her eyes so they were fixed directly on Cottle and avoiding the screen. She looked like she was returning from a long way off. "I don't — I don't know exactly. Eight months, maybe."

" _Maybe?_ So you're telling me you haven't bothered keeping up with your appointments? You know how important they are. You're getting close to your time and complications certainly aren't out of the realm of possibility." Cottle moved the wand again, pressing down slightly harder. "Given that I'd say you're damned _lucky_."

Immediately she looked away, her chest rising and falling in one long inhalation. Lee hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should intervene, and decided there was nothing else for it. He shifted Will and carefully grasped one of her hands, surprised when she held tight.

"Doc, Kara was … she was on New Caprica during the occupation," he began.

"There was a med tent. Everyone was welcome there."

"She wasn't _free_ ," Lee clarified, irritated now. "The Cylons … they held her in detention. She was one of the first people captured. I don't imagine the toasters care very much for the welfare of their prisoners, and I also don't suppose they made sure she got regular medical checkups and ultrasounds."

Kara interlaced their fingers, and squeezed.

He squeezed back, stroking her thumb gently.

Cottle merely grunted, then called for Ishay.

While the doctor was distracted, Lee moved his chair closer to the examination table, bending so as to be able to speak with his wife a little more privately. She continued to stare resolutely at the ceiling, her gaze shifting only to Will every so often.

"Don't you want to look at the screen?" Lee murmured. "You can't see much, but …"

Her response was immediate, and certain. "No."

"Okay." Lee bit his lip, wondering what aspect of her captivity might be provoking this reaction. "You were right, though. The baby looks fine."

"Yeah." Another deep inhalation, full of things unsaid. "What do you … see?"

"Baby!" Will interrupted with a grin, indicating the screen. "That's my baby brother!"

Kara actually chuckled. "What does he look like, Will?"

The boy considered for a long moment, tongue poking out as he contemplated the screen. "Dark," he said finally. "He gots a funny nose."

"So he has your dad's nose, then." Kara winked.

"Since when do you think my nose is funny?" Lee asked curiously, turning to peer back at the ultrasonic image. The baby's nose looked relatively normal to him, and in fact he could see many of what seemed like Kara's features present in the child's face.

"It always has been," she shrugged, and the ghost of a smile was briefly visible on her lips before being quickly erased. "He looks like you, huh?"

"From this angle, I think that _she_ —" scowls all around, but he ignored them "— actually looks a lot like you. She has your hands. Really long fingers. Her eyes are shaped a little like yours."

"You can tell all that from a fuzzy-ass little screen?" Kara sounded skeptical.

"You'd be surprised," shrugged Lee. "I mean, if you looked …"

"You can look for me."

"Fine." He sighed, and glanced briefly at Cottle and Ishay, who were hovering at the other end of the examination table conversing in low voices and occasionally pointing at the screen. They appeared concerned. "Is everything okay?" Lee asked, raising his voice to speak to the medical professionals.

Ishay's smile was tight when she met his eyes. "Physically the fetus is in good condition, measuring a bit smaller than we usually see, but that's not a cause for concern, especially since we're not sure of the precise gestational age. What _is_ slightly more worrisome is that she, or he, appears to be in a breech position."

Lee blinked. "Breech?"

"The wrong way around," Kara said, and her voice was suddenly bleak.

"Yes, instead of being head-down, which is the way most babies are born, your child is presenting with legs down," the medic explained, taking over the ultrasound wand so she could show Lee on the screen. "Now, this isn't necessarily a catastrophe. A lot of babies present this way but turn before labour begins and are born headfirst. That could well happen here, in which case we've nothing to worry about."

"And if she _doesn't_ turn?" Lee asked.

"If she doesn't turn, absolute worst-case scenario we'd be looking at a surgical delivery," Ishay said, "which isn't a problem, not here in sickbay. We're fully equipped. We'll just continue to monitor her throughout the remainder of Captain Thrace's pregnancy. It's even possible to deliver a breech baby without surgery, so long as the fetal heart rate stays steady. But we won't worry about that now. The breech position has absolutely no negative impact on the baby while he or she is still in the womb."

Lee nodded, feeling only slightly more reassured — and _very_ glad they were back on _Galactica_.

Cottle took over the wand again, a sly smile creasing his face. "Anyone want to see the family jewels?"

"Huh?" Will tilted his head to the side.

"He means do we want to know right now if the baby is a boy or a girl," Lee said quickly, before anyone could introduce any further innuendo into the conversation. He looked toward Kara. "Do we?"

"It'd settle your little argument once and for all," the doctor pointed out.

Lee nodded, and was halfway to letting his curiosity get the better of him in lieu of any expressed opinion on Kara's part, when the latter suddenly spoke up.

"We'll wait," she answered firmly.

"We will?" Lee knew he sounded disappointed, but couldn't help it now that the option had been presented.

"No wait!" Will added mutinously.

"We're _waiting_ ," Kara reiterated. Her ensuing glare managed to seem more pleading than stern.

Lee backed off, having immediately gotten the message, but the others didn't.

"I could always tell just the folks who want to know, and leave everybody else," Cottle offered.

Will bounced happily, clapping his hands. "Yeah, yeah!"

"No, I think we'll … like Kara says, we'll wait," said Lee. "Besides, if you told me I'd probably just end up blurting it out anyway. I'm horrible with those kinds of secrets." He rolled his eyes at himself.

"Your funeral." Cottle passed the wand back to Ishay. "She just has a couple more things to check, and then we'll let you go. Meantime, Lee, I'd like to have a word with you."

The use of his first name startled Lee momentarily — he didn't think he'd ever heard the doctor say it before — but he supposed that given the confusion over his rank, there weren't many other options. What, though, would Cottle want to say to _him_ , and why couldn't he say it in front of Kara?

"You stay here with Mama, buddy, all right?" Lee set his son on the floor and gave Kara's hand a last reassuring squeeze. "I'll be right back."

Will nodded enthusiastically. Kara looked momentarily nervous, but returned her gaze quickly to the ceiling.

Lee followed Cottle out of the examination room, to an enclosed area where they couldn't be easily overheard. Once there, the doctor faced him, looking stern.

"How much sleep has she been getting?"

Lee blinked; this was the last question he had been expecting. "Uh — to tell you the truth, I'm not exactly sure. I fell asleep before she did last night … I was so exhausted, I couldn't help it … and she was awake when I woke up this morning. It looked like she had been for awhile."

Cottle shook his head. "I figured as much. Physically she's showing signs of severe sleep deprivation and fatigue. Quite frankly I'm amazed she's still up and functional given that she may not have slept for at least the last thirty-six hours, on my estimation."

"Kara can be … extremely stubborn when she wants to," Lee reminded him.

"No shit, but there are certain limits even _she_ can't exceed, especially while she's pregnant. Now what I want you to do when we're done here is take her back to wherever the hell you're both living right now, get her into a bed and make damn sure she _stays_ there until she falls asleep. I don't care how you do it. Tie her to the bed if you have to, just get her some rest. And for gods' sake don't let her talk you out of it. She's perfectly capable, as I'm sure you know."

"Right." The younger man sighed. "Look, I … I think whatever happened to Kara down on the planet may be affecting her ability to sleep. She seems almost … scared of going to bed. I mean, not that she'd _tell_ me so, but I can see it."

"Yeah, well, here's something else to scare her," Cottle snapped, his tone unrelenting. "If she doesn't sleep soon, her body's gonna start playing tricks on her. She'll experience trouble focusing, memory loss, maybe even the occasional blackout. And she isn't going to be able to support that baby for much longer on no sleep. Personally, with the kid being just a little smaller than it should be, I'd prefer it to stay put for as long as possible. But the more her body is stressed, the higher the likelihood she'll go into labour. The baby could be born before its lungs are fully mature. And if _that_ happens, there may only be so many things we can do out here to keep it going. You remember what happened to Karl Agathon's kid, don't you?"

Lee felt his hands starting to shake a little and hid them quickly behind his back. "Doc, if you're trying to scare _me_ , you're doing a damn good job."

"I'm glad to hear it," the doctor growled, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. "Maybe you can make her listen to you, then. It comes down to this: if Kara really wants that baby, she may have to do a few things that scare her, or that she doesn't like. That's the game."

So saying, Cottle stalked away.

Fear and nerves seized Lee in equal measure as he headed in the opposite direction, back toward the curtained-off examination table. It was easy enough for _Cottle_ to say that Kara needed sleep. It was probably even easy for him to pull out all those scare tactics — though Lee knew there was a grain of truth to them. Far harder was convincing Kara herself to bed down, something that, conveniently enough, Cottle didn't have to do. No, that would be Lee's job. He would again play the heavy. They'd probably get into another fight. He was sick of it already.

But he was freaked out, too. How frakking awful would it be to come this far, to get Kara back from an impossible situation on New Caprica, only to lose the baby because she wouldn't sleep? Of course, it was possible that Cottle really _was_ just trying to scare them, but he didn't particularly want to take the chance either way. Fight or no fight, he couldn't let his wife put their child at risk.

He pushed aside the curtain to find Kara dressed again, sitting in the chair he'd vacated, staring determinedly at the floor. She looked white as the bedsheet on the table.

Will was holding her hand.

"Okay, what happened?" Lee asked.

"Mama scared an' I help!" Will declared.

"We can go now," Kara said loudly.

Lee chose to sidestep the obvious issue for the moment. "When do they want you back here for a checkup?"

"Dunno. A week maybe." She was already rising stiffly, almost shakily, waving off his attempts to help. "This is for you," Kara added, and thrust a folded piece of paper into her husband's hand. Then she was gone, moving as quickly as she could, leaving sickbay.

Lee knew running when he saw it.

He sighed, and knelt to his son's level. Will looked perplexed, and not a little worried. "Hey," Lee whispered, holding out his arms in invitation. "Does someone need a hug?"

" _Mama_ needa hug," Will nodded fervently, but accepted the offer anyway. They squeezed each other for several long minutes, Will tucking himself neatly into his father's shoulder, Lee massaging slow circles on his son's back. "Baby's okay?" the boy asked after a hesitant beat.

Lee wished, for a moment, that Will wasn't so perceptive sometimes. "The baby will be fine," he answered, not wanting to get into specifics. "We just need to get your mama some sleep, that's all. Growing a baby takes a lot of work, so she's very tired right now." He paused, hesitating too, wondering if it was right to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. "Buddy … do you know what scared her?"

Will's reply was immediate. "Picture," he said, and gestured to Lee's hand. "Onna paper."

"The picture on the paper?" Feeling more than a little puzzled, Lee unfolded the piece of paper Kara had handed him.

It was an ultrasound photo. He could tell that instantly from the grainy quality, and he could also tell it was of his child. He had a feeling he would have been able to figure that out even without Kara's name printed across the top. There was the baby's nose, and the rest of her face, and her hands curled into fists right by her cheeks. Weirdly, he wished he could hold her right now. He wanted to feel her weight in his arms, and kiss her cheek. He wanted to tell her he could keep her safe, and have her be able to hear.

But why should her mother get so worked up over a picture? Clearly, Kara hadn't wanted to look at the screen. She hadn't wanted to know the sex of the child she carried, either, and he sensed that was attributable to more than just a desire to be surprised at birth. _Why_ , though? She wasn't like this with Will. It must have something to do with New Caprica, and what had happened to her on the planet. Lee felt as though he was trying to put together a puzzle without all the pieces — and, indeed, without even knowing what the end result was supposed to look like.

He couldn't ask questions, either.

He'd all but promised her he wouldn't do that.

But if to do so would _help_ her — if he could be a better source of support for her with more information — was it worth the damage questioning her would surely cause? Was it worth the hit her trust in him would take? Was it worth days, weeks, possibly months of distancing on her part? Was it worth not being able to hold her, touch her, kiss her, love her?

He had no answers.

This isn't the way it was supposed to be!

 _I want my wife back._

I want our marriage back.

No, frak that. Frak all of that.

I just want her to be happy _. I want to see her smile._

Lee took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before refolding the picture and tucking it into his pocket.

"We go now?" Will inquired.

"Yeah, buddy." Lee scooped him up and held him close. "Let's go find Mama."

***

The floor of the head bit into her knees, making them twinge sharply through her cargoes. Her hands gripped the toilet bowl's sides, so hard that her knuckles turned white, but that didn't stop the tremors that had started in her arms and spread until her entire body was shaking, caught by some internal hypothermia.

It was _real_ now.

She'd tried to ignore it, but it was real.

Her insides twisted uncomfortably again and Kara bent over, surrendering the rest of her meagre breakfast to nausea. The docs would be pissed if they knew. They'd already read her the riot act about how she wasn't taking care of herself. So had Lee, for that matter. Which was why she'd left sickbay as soon as she could, knowing this would happen, just hoping she could hold it down until she got back to her quarters. Part of her wanting Lee to follow, another part wishing he'd stay the hell away.

He didn't need to see her like this.

He couldn't know what she'd almost done.

The baby squirmed and rolled. Kara struggled to get control of her breath; it was coming out in jerky gasps, synchronizing with the ever-present tremors. Once more she wanted to step out of her body, leave it behind, wipe her mind of everything she'd said and done and heard in the last four months. Maybe then she could forget it.

Maybe then she could stop seeing _his_ face every time she shut her eyes.

 _You're special, Kara. You have a destiny._

She jerked her head up.

He wasn't here.

He couldn't be.

But if he was —

Her hand slid to her leg, feeling the knife holster there. It was stupid and probably dangerous and against regulations, but it made _her_ feel better. She was always armed. Always prepared to defend herself.

 _I won't allow you to murder her. All life is sacred to us._

Except her son's. Except the billions of other innocent people the Cylons had killed.

 _No. Will's alive_ , Kara told herself furiously. Her grip on the knife tightened.

 _But for how much longer? How much longer can you hope to protect him, Kara? One day we will catch up with you. One day we will find your fleet, and perhaps I'll decide that your husband is expendable, and I will order a squadron of Raiders to kill him._

"You _won't_." She'd spoken aloud, and did not care.

 _You can't stop destiny, Kara. It catches up with you._

The hatch clanked. She bolted upright.

"Kara?"

 _The sound of the door opening and closing was utterly familiar, one she'd heard and dreaded for what seemed like a thousand times. One thousand and one. His boots were muffled on the stairs as he descended, the little smile he wore looking tentative and condescending and threatening all at once._

She'd forgotten to lock the door.

Why _had she forgotten to lock the door?_

A stupid, costly mental lapse, and one she'd have to ensure would not happen again.

Leoben leaned against the doorway, sympathy in his eyes — fake _sympathy, she knew, because the frakker could turn it on and off as easily as breathing. She couldn't let herself fall for it, or believe it._

"Kara, are you okay?"

Even his voice was soft. Some misguided attempt to be understanding.

"Why the hell do you _care?" she barked, standing abruptly, backing against the far wall. If he wanted her he'd have to work for it — and she had a weapon._

"You know I care," Leoben said smoothly. "I care about you."

"Bullshit."

"You're my wife _, Kara."_

She blinked. That _was a new one. He'd never actually tried to pretend they were_ married _before. But the toaster was delusional. It probably made sense to him, in some twisted way. Maybe he was just saying it to get her to trust him, even if he should have known that it'd take more than the word "wife" thrown around casually to earn her trust._

"I have _a husband," she spat. "He loves me."_

A momentary look of confusion crossed his face, and triumph surged within her. But next moment, Leoben had recovered. "That's right, I do."

"No. You? Are an insane Cylon. You killed my child and I know exactly _what you want to do with this baby. You want to take her to a Farm and force her to pop out dead hybrid fetus after dead hybrid fetus and once you decide she's of no use to you anymore? You'll kill her too. I'm not_ stupid _, godsdammit! You wanted to do the same thing to me! It was only because I was frakking_ pregnant _that you didn't!" She was shouting by now._

"Kara —"

But he'd tipped his hand; she could see that he was planning to come into the washroom the instant his hand uncurled from the doorframe and he relaxed slightly in preparation to take a step. Nausea surged within her again, but she shoved it down, forcing herself to think only in actions.

As Leoben stepped into the washroom, she bent quickly, never taking her eyes off him as her fingers closed around the knife's handle and she flicked the blade open, straightening up to point it in his direction.

Another ripple of triumph flowed through her when his gaze focused on the silver point.

"You come in here and I swear to gods I will use this." Her voice was low and threatening, and didn't tremble. A miracle considering the circumstances.

Leoben smoothed his features and held his hands up, no doubt a false gesture of surrender. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise I will not hurt you. Just put the knife down."

"Yeah, we've done that _before," she sneered, and kept the knife where it was. "Evening, I was on the couch, you'd just downloaded for the fifth time, remember? You tried to tell me I had a frakking_ destiny _."_

"Kara, you're confused," Leoben said calmly.

"Am I? If I hadn't dropped the knife you'd have killed her right there." Her other hand came up to clasp her abdomen. "Don't think I couldn't see it in your eyes."

He tried to switch tactics. "You're exhausted, all right? You need sleep. Come to bed."

"With you, _right? 'Cause that's what this is all about. You think you_ love _me."_

The worst part of it was, she did _need sleep. Underneath the false bravado, she was fading, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stay on her feet much longer. Which meant she had to get rid of him as soon as possible, preferably by killing him. She might at least be able to nap while he downloaded._

"I do _love you, Kara," Leoben countered. "I love you more than anything. I love Will too."_

"Don't _say his name." She advanced several steps, keeping her arm extended. "Don't you_ ever _frakking say his name again!"_

"Okay. Okay." Again he held up his hands. "I'd feel a lot better if you put down that knife."

"I bet you would, wouldn't you?" A few more steps forward; she was halfway to the door now. The killing blow would have to come as a shock if there was any hope of success. "I bet you want me to kiss _you again, right?"_

"Well —"

"It's not happening!" The sharpness of her words startled him. "This time, I am going to skip straight to the part where you bleed out on the floor. More satisfying for me, even when you download."

Real alarm showed in his eyes now. "Kara, listen to me! If you use that knife — if you try to hurt me with it, or kill me — I'm not coming back. You know that. You know _that! I'm not going to download like a Cylon. I'm not going to resurrect. I'll just be dead."_

Another trick. She was certain of it, and allowed herself a predatory smile. "All the better for me, then. When I kill you, you'll really — stay —"

A piercing wail interrupted her.

Kacey?

"Mama, don't! _"_

Mama. __

Kacey had never called her Mama.

Only —

But no _._

It couldn't be.

Surely it wasn't real. He _wasn't real._

"Don't!" __

Screams and sobs.

She steadied herself. Tightened her grip on the knife. Looked at Leoben.

His face was drawn in what appeared to be genuine fright.

"Will, no!"

 _"I told you not to say that —"_

But she couldn't move.

The time for the killing blow had arrived, and she could not move.

Something small was wrapped around her knees.

"Mama, stop!"

"Will, please —"

" _Stop!_ "

She blinked, drawing a ragged breath.

Her son was clutching her, his face tilted upward, tearstained.

In her right hand she held a knife.

In the doorway was Lee — _Lee_ — white, starting to sweat, hovering on the threshold.

"Lee?"

Her voice came out a croak.

He nodded, tremulously.

"Lee … what am I doing?"

Her husband took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. "Right now, Kara? Right now you're putting down that knife," Lee said quietly.

For a moment, she saw Leoben again, but Will's firm, unrelenting pressure on her legs kept Kara focused, grounding her in the present. Slowly she unclenched her fingers from around the blade's handle, setting it with a soft _click_ on the counter next to the sink.

Lee relaxed, visibly.

"What the hell happened?" Kara mumbled. The room tilted dangerously, and she closed her eyes against the disorientation.

"I — I don't know, you tell me." From the proximity of his voice, she could tell Lee had taken a couple of steps into the head. "You were over by the shower, and I asked you if you were okay … you started talking to me like I was somebody else, and the knife came out —"

"Yeah," she interrupted quickly, because she suddenly didn't want to hear anything more about it.

Will burrowed more deeply into Kara, his arms wrapped around her almost as far as they could go. "No fight," he mumbled, the declaration muted, containing none of his usual bravado. Certainly none of the confidence he'd displayed in coming between his parents earlier in the day.

"She didn't mean it, buddy," Lee said immediately, crouching to the boy's level. "Remember what I told you in sickbay? She's tired, and she needs to sleep."

"I'm right _here_ , dammit," snapped Kara before she could stop herself.

"Then _show_ him you're here," Lee shot back. He sighed then, and bit his lip. "Look, I … this really isn't the time to … and I don't want to fight—"

"Just spit it the frak out." She was momentarily sick of his coddling.

Lee lifted Will into his arms almost tentatively, as though afraid to separate mother from child. Kara felt the loss of contact keenly, but did not outwardly react.

"All I'm saying is that … I guess I know what it's like, to have a mother or a father who tells you they're there in words, but they're not _really_ there," he told her. "Kids see through that. I also know things got rough on the planet. They weren't that great up here either. So I understand —"

"You _don't_ ," Kara whispered, and it was every inch the truth.

"Maybe not," Lee conceded. He kissed Will's hair, and levelled a gaze directly at his wife. "But then … neither do you."


	67. Chapter 67

"She pulled a _knife_ on you?"

The incredulity in his father's voice was thick, ugly. Lee sighed, bracing himself against it.

"Dad, she was exhausted. She … she hadn't slept in over thirty-six hours, by Cottle's estimation. I talked to him last night and he said it isn't uncommon to start hallucinating when you've been awake that long. That and …" He hesitated, not sure he should reveal the other things Kara had told him just yet.

Bill fixed him with a penetrating stare. "And?"

"Something happened to her, down on the planet." Lee glanced briefly at Will, trying to gauge how much his son was taking in, but the boy just kept staring listlessly at the wall, his head pillowed against Lee's chest, one hand tightly clutching his father's. Lee kissed Will's forehead before continuing. "In her lucid moments she hasn't said anything to me, obviously. But I spoke with Sam Anders this morning, and Kara did mention a few things during the … incident. It's my belief she was held captive by the Cylon we know as Leoben. He had something of a — personal interest in her. Maybe even in our baby, too. She also talked about something that happened on Caprica, when she went back on that mission of Roslin's."

"Caprica?" The older man shuffled papers on his desk. "Both Kara and Karl Agathon were tasked with writing reports about their time there, once everything was straightened out with the fleet. Kara's only said that she got shot and was treated. Helo's wasn't terribly detailed in that regard either."

"Sam knew," Lee told his father. "Not everything, but he certainly had a pretty good idea of what went on. He said that he and his fellow Resistance fighters broke Kara out of a … well, he called it a Farm. The Cylons were doing experiments on human women, trying to figure out how to reproduce biologically. Kara told Sam they had women hooked up to machines, impregnating them with hybrid babies, the whole thing. They'd have done it to Kara too, apparently, but she was pregnant already, which was a hitch they weren't expecting. The Cylons debating how to handle that caused a delay and let her escape."

"Will saved her life," Bill murmured.

"For all intents and purposes, yes. And she saved his. If she'd stayed there much longer, the Cylons probably would have aborted him."

"Frakking toasters." The Admiral shook his head, and while Lee was a little surprised to hear such a sentiment from his father, he could hardly disagree.

"Anyway … Cottle thinks she's suffering post-traumatic stress, from New Caprica. He says the best form of therapy is for her to talk things out, but I have no idea how to even broach that with her. She made me all but promise _not_ to ask questions." Lee shifted Will slightly.

Bill pulled off his glasses and polished them against his uniform. "I may be able to help you there."

Lee frowned. "How so?"

"Captain Agathon and I have been discussing the need to get full and accurate reports from the military personnel, current and former, who were on New Caprica," Bill explained. "As it works out, Kara was the most senior military official on the planet during the occupation, so her report will be of particular value to us."

"But Colonel Tigh —"

"Colonel Tigh mustered out the morning of the attack. He did take charge of the resistance, and of course we'll be talking with him as well." A shadow passed over the older man's face as he spoke the words. "But he was, technically, a civilian when he took the actions he did. As was Chief Tyrol, and the other personnel down there. Most of them had left the Colonial Fleet, and the few who didn't weren't as high-ranking as Kara."

"She ended up down there by accident, Dad," Lee reminded his father, the pang of guilt stabbing him as it always did nowadays. "She'd just taken Will to visit some of our friends. Hell, if we're going to get technical, I could have been _with_ her."

"Be that as it may, we still need her testimony," the Admiral pointed out. "We'll be conducting verbal interviews with high-ranking or previously high-ranking military officers, asking them to tell their stories and give their impressions of the occupation. Helo is still working out the details, but we expect to be ready to begin within about a week's time. And of course, you'll be an important part of the process."

" _Me?_ " Lee arched an eyebrow. "But I wasn't on the planet, I didn't —"

"As an interviewer, Lee," Bill interrupted. "We need you to ask the questions, to help with the recording." He hesitated for the barest of moments before continuing. "Especially when it comes time for Kara's interview. I'd like you to conduct it."

Lee was shaking his head even before the other man had finished. "No, no, no, there's no way I could even _think_ of doing that! I mean, do you have any concept of how that would look to Kara? She'd never trust me again!"

"Yet you just finished telling me that you wanted a way she'd talk to you about New Caprica." Bill leveled a look at his son over his glasses. "This is that way."

"Yeah, but — it can't be the _only_ way!" Lee clutched his son tighter, mind reeling, searching for a way out. He couldn't question Kara. He _couldn't_. "Besides, there's no guarantee it'll even work. I know Kara, and I know that if there's something she doesn't want to talk about, she'll just dig in her heels and refuse to say anything no matter what you do. We'll spend the whole time just staring each other down!"

"If I order her to do it …"

Lee's insides flipped uncomfortably. "She doesn't always follow orders."

"From me she does. If she gets angry with you, tell her you're conducting the interview on my direction. It's the truth."

"I'm not sure that will make a difference to Kara. She'll still see me as the bad guy for being the one to actually do it. And she may think it was my idea in the first — _what_ , Will?"

The boy had been tugging insistently on his father's uniform jacket for the last several moments.

"Bear," Will whispered, almost inaudibly.

"You want your bear?" Lee asked, and his son nodded. "Well, I think we brought him, didn't we? He should be right over there in my bag, I can let you down to have a look."

" _No!_ " Will wrapped his arms tightly around Lee. "You help!"

Part of Lee felt slightly astonished — the bag was, at most, a meter away, and both he and the boy's grandfather would be in view the entire time — but he was also strongly reminded of the occupation's early days, when Kara first disappeared and Will had been clingy almost to the point of refusing to let Lee use the head unaccompanied. Perhaps, in the toddler's mind, she wasn't back yet. Maybe he wouldn't consider his mother to have returned until she was her usual boisterous self.

"All right, we'll go get Sam together," promised Lee, but despite those words, it was still another several seconds before Will would release his grasp long enough to be moved gently to the floor.

"Lee?" Bill asked, watching them make their slow way across the room.

"Yeah?"

"Where was Will, when Kara came at you with the knife?"

The question he'd been dreading. Not only because of simple facts, which were frightening enough to contemplate, but because Lee didn't want to admit to the boy's grandfather exactly where Will had been, and precisely what he'd seen. He didn't want to admit to _anyone_ that a child of two had seen something like that.

"He was … he was in our quarters," Lee mumbled, keeping his head down under the pretence of helping Will root through the diaper bag. "I'm sure he had no idea what was going on at first, but he must have heard yelling and … he came over to the head right after she'd taken out the knife, when she was threatening to …"

"Kill you," Bill completed with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah. I think — I think Kara stopped because of him. Somehow he got through to her in a way I couldn't. She came back to herself shortly after …" He trailed off at a sniffling noise, and noticed his son had paused. "Will, buddy, are you okay?"

Lee soon had his answer: tears were trickling rapidly down the boy's cheeks.

So as he had done twice in the last twelve hours — once at bedtime, and again over breakfast — Lee carefully picked up the bear, handed it to his son, and wrapped Will in a firm embrace. He didn't speak, feeling that none of the usual platitudes were of any use. It _wasn't_ okay. He didn't know when it was going to _be_ okay.

So he didn't say it would be.

He couldn't tell that lie.

Lee stayed quiet, and hugged Will, and wondered how much more comfort he could give to others before he started to fall apart himself.

After how long would that well run dry?

"Lee."

His own father's voice made him look up, slowly, when several minutes had passed.

"You know you have to do it," the Admiral said gently.

No need to ask what he meant. They both understood.

"I can't." Lee cleared his throat loudly, hoping the noise would account for the catch that had crept into his voice.

"New Caprica is going to tear you apart." Bill's tone was just as bleak as he crossed the room to sit on his couch. "It's already started. But you can fix it."

"Dad, she's my _wife_." The words were mumbled, into Will's hair.

"And Will is your family. Your new son or daughter is your family. _Kara_ is your family. Don't let them fall apart." The older man paused, clasping and unclasping his hands. "Lee … don't make the same mistake I did."

Lee had no idea how to respond to _that_. He shifted Will to a sitting position, his mind reeling.

"She trusts me," was all he could think to repeat.

"That's exactly why it has to be you. Not in spite of the fact that you're her husband … but _because_ of it."

***

She'd been staring at the hatch for hours.

Maybe not _hours_.

But it _felt_ like it.

He had left a note, and she should've been sleeping. But she couldn't. And she didn't want to think about the reasons why.

About _any_ of the reasons.

So Kara sat on the worn couch, scrutinizing the wall opposite. The baby rolled slowly inside her, a hand or a foot occasionally visible imprinted in her flesh. Lee's tanks — the only shirts she could find to wear that even remotely fitted her — still weren't quite large enough, and a wide strip of flesh showed at the bottom, bulging over her cargoes. She had no idea what the hell had happened to the clothes she'd worn back from New Caprica, and while she was relieved to ditch the shitty memories attached to those clothes, they _fit_ , when few other things would now.

Abruptly tension seized her and she bent forward, one hand flying involuntarily to her abdomen.

Real? Or practice?

It was getting damned hard to tell.

And she wasn't ready. Kara knew that with certainty.

She held her breath, waiting, until the feeling slowly withdrew. Just another false frakking alarm, then. But there were more of those now. Many more, and from her pregnancy with her son, she understood that each of those false alarms brought her closer to the time when they _wouldn't_ be false — and that this time might only be a week or two away. Or it could be tomorrow. She'd screwed up her dating, after all, and the estimation Cottle had was a rough guess at best.

She could have dealt with it, _maybe_ , if it hadn't been for that ultrasound.

Proof positive, as though Kara needed it, that the gods had their own backup plan.

She stared at the note in her hand again, for the hundredth time, needing distraction.

Lee's handwriting was as neat and cautious as ever, even when it didn't have to be.

 _Kara,_

Have taken Will to Dad's office for my meeting with the Admiral. We shouldn't be gone for more than a couple hours. Sam will get you whatever you need in the meantime.

I love you.

Lee

Briefly she toyed with the idea of leaving these damn quarters, maybe playing a practical joke on him in the process.

 _Lee,_

Guess what happened while you were gone? I had the baby! Sorry about the gigantic bloodstain on your side of the bed, by the way. Oops. Meet you in sickbay!

Kara

P.S. It IS a boy. Ha!

The old Starbuck, the old _Kara_ , wouldn't even have thought twice before grabbing a pen and scribbling that down. He'd be pissed off at first, sure, but they'd laugh about it later. Maybe even end up with a great story to tell the kid when he or she grew up.

But things had changed.

Lee was so clingy and on edge these days, she wasn't sure he _would_ forgive her.

Worse still, Kara wasn't sure she had it in herself.

She reread his note once more. And again. And another time.

Her body was screaming at her to sleep, to catch up on the rest of the time she'd missed on the planet. The couch, hell, _any_ flat surface looked awfully inviting. But she wouldn't. Couldn't.

Fear and a Cylon's voice gibbered around the edges of her mind.

How long before she started hearing him?

Seeing him?

How long before she tried, a second time, to hurt those she was supposed to love?

Maybe _that_ had been his goal all along. To brainwash her and send her back to _Galactica_ like some trained assassin.

Like Boomer, when she shot the Old Man.

 _No. He kept telling me I had a destiny. Killing Lee has nothing to do with that._

Almost as though he'd been waiting for the opportunity, she heard Leoben's voice again.

 _Kara, you were ready to kill your baby. The baby is half of Lee._

Kara dropped her head to her hands, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

 _Not real. Not. Real._

 _The human race is a doomed species, Kara. You must know this. Perhaps your destiny is to destroy it, beginning with those closest to you._

Unwillingly, panic began to fill her.

This was how it'd started last time.

Leoben had spoken to her, and next thing she knew she was pointing a godsdamned knife at her husband's throat.

But Kara didn't know how to stop it.

Will brought her out of it when it had happened before. He brought her back to herself.

But Will wasn't here.

Her breath quickened, fists tightening against her forehead until she left tiny half-moon finger marks in her palms.

 _The toaster's not here. He's not real. He is not — frakking — here._

 _God knew your plan_ , Leoben hissed. _He knew of the sin you were going to commit. Why do you think your baby is breech? He sees non-believers, and He contrives to punish them —_

A clank of the hatch.

Kara stiffened.

Real?

Or had her mind already plunged her into fiction?

"Unca Sam's here?" came an excited voice. Will's voice.

Still her eyes remained closed.

"Yes, I think Uncle Sam's here. But we need to use quiet voices, buddy. If Mama's sleeping we shouldn't wake her up."

Lee.

She thought.

She hoped.

"Mama _always_ sleeping," Will retorted, but he was indeed quieter.

"Sam?" called Lee's voice. He'd be able to see the couch in a moment, which meant she had to react _now_ , one way or another.

Kara kept her eyes closed, kept herself in the exact same position.

"Lee, could you come over here?"

It was not a request so much as a demand.

"Kara?" His footsteps paused momentarily as the hatch shut with a _snick_ , then padded rapidly toward the couch. "Kara, what's wrong?"

She opened her eyes. He was crouched in front of her, one hand hovering uncertainly above her knee.

It took all of her self-control not to jump at his proximity. At the implied contact.

"What's wrong?" Lee asked again, and she could read fear in his face. On Will's, as the boy sucked his thumb near the hatch. "Is it the baby? Something's wrong with the baby, isn't it? Godsdammit, I _knew_ I shouldn't have left —"

"I need to know," Kara interrupted, her voice low and precise, "if you're here. I need to make sure."

She summoned willpower again, placing her palms flat against his face for a moment before slipping her hands down to his shoulders, drifting around to his back and slowly pulling him into an embrace, his cheek touching hers, and he _felt_ real, but still she inhaled deeply …

Her eyes shut again, but this time from relief.

He smelled like Lee.

That was one quality that even Leoben had never been able to imitate.

Possibly Lee could sense the moment when she started to relax, because he hugged her back then, his arms wrapping around her as she had done to him, but squeezing her more tightly and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.

Will walked forward, tentatively.

"I'm here," Lee whispered simply, and kissed her again.

"I had to," Kara blurted out, as if he'd contradicted her. "I couldn't frakking tell and I had to make damn sure —"

"It's fine, Kara." This time Lee interrupted _her_ , and stroked her hair. "I get it. And for what it's worth I'd rather you tested things out with a hug as opposed to a knife. It's a little easier on all of us." He pulled back a little to frown at her. "Are you sure you're okay? You still _look_ exhausted."

"Whatever." She avoided his gaze.

Of course, he pressed. "And where the hell is Sam, anyway? I asked him to stay!" Lee glanced around the room, as though expecting to see their friend's body stuffed into a closet.

"And I told him he could go." Kara crossed her arms, unrepentant. "I don't need a frakking _babysitter_ , Lee!"

"He wasn't a babysitter," Lee countered, moving to sit beside her on the couch. The proximity again felt uncomfortable. "Sam dropped by this morning while you were still asleep to ask if there was anything he could do to help, and we both figured that after … after what happened on the — the planet, you wouldn't want to be alone. That's all."

She squirmed away from the arm he tried to drape around her shoulder, to the opposite end of the couch. "What the hell do you know about that?" Kara snapped, when she would have preferred to ask exactly how much she'd blurted out during the hallucination. Or whatever it was.

Lee suddenly grew very interested in examining his shoes. "Just … what you've told me. Sam talked about it a little too. Not very much."

Unhelpful. Of course.

The fact that _Sam_ had talked worried her more. What would he have said? Certainly nothing _truly_ terrible, nor would he have mentioned any of the secrets involving the baby that she kept under careful lock and key, because he didn't know about that. But he knew enough. He'd seen her with Kacey. He'd seen how determined she was to go back for the child. He'd certainly heard the exclamation "She's my daughter!" as Kara rushed up the stairs of the apartment. And he knew about the Farm.

Would he put two and two together, and tell Lee?

"I can't," she mumbled, and gripped the arm of the couch, trying to pull herself up. The urge to _run_ was overpowering, as if by running she could also flee the images flashing through her mind. It had never worked before, but Kara was nothing if not persistent.

A light touch on her arm confirmed that Lee was still there, still trying to help. "You can't what?"

" _Don't_." Kara jerked harshly away, stumbling to her feet and around the corner of the couch, putting distance between them. Distance from Will, who was still sitting by the hatch, observing with troubled eyes. "Would it frakking kill you to just leave me _alone_ for a minute?"

She was already halfway across the room by the time he answered.

"Where are you going?" Lee sounded tired, defeated.

"To the head, you moron! That's still legal, isn't it?"

This time he didn't reply.

The door of the head made a satisfying _bang_ as it closed. But there were enough holes in her anger that she could watch, in the second before she slammed the door shut, Lee's head dip slowly to his hands and the shake of his shoulders, just once.

She didn't know how to help him.

Hell, she couldn't even help _herself_.

The lock clicked as she slid it into place.

Kara leaned against the sink, breathing hard, trying to control the fury that had suddenly sprung up. _Suddenly_ — she hadn't meant to get angry. It had come out of frakking nowhere, and she couldn't stop it. Just like the hallucination, or the flashback, or whatever the hell that was with the knife. She'd been on the verge of another one when Lee came back.

It didn't help that she could remember, vividly, locking herself into another washroom, feeding the need to get away.

 _Leoben and his destiny talk._

Kacey, who was hers and then not hers.

Will, who was dead and then not dead.

Don't think about that.

Don't think about that don't think about that don't think about that.

In the mirror there were those same dark circles under her eyes, the lines of tiredness of her face, the sheen of sweat on her brow. No wonder Lee thought she looked like hell.

 _The baby. The promise. Trying to figure out a way to do it painlessly — maybe steal some anesthetic from the medical center where they'd take her to give birth. Load two syringes. Two lethal doses. Newborn skin was so thin. Easy to give the shot —_

Kara yanked her shirts up and over her head, tossing them to the floor.

 _Something else. Think about something else._

She ran tentative fingers over the skin of her stomach, tracing veins and stretch marks, cupping it at the bottom.

From within came an equally tentative kick.

She'd mostly tried to ignore the pregnancy. When she conceived, the baby was still a nebulous and far-off idea. Then New Caprica happened. Survival instinct. Thinking of the child only as something to be protected so she could prove she wasn't a total screw-up as a mother (she'd let Will die, but maybe things would be different now). When she realized there was no way out, when she'd started dreaming — her daughter, hooked up to machines at the Farm — the game changed again. She would protect her child, but only through sacrifice. In death, the Cylons couldn't reach the baby. In death, they couldn't make her a slave.

Then, she was rescued.

Where did that leave her?

And the kid, once it was born?

A light rapping on the door of the head jarred her, more than it should have.

"Kara?"

Lee sounded as cautious as his knock had been, but his voice was also layered with fatigue.

She thought of snapping, demanding to know why he was disturbing her, until she realized she didn't have the energy.

"Yeah, what?"

"Can — can I just get in there for a second? I have to get a diaper."

Kara sighed, and peeled herself off the counter. Life butted in, no matter what. Quite literally, in this case. The dumb joke almost made her smile, and it was probably that which compelled her to bend awkwardly and reach under the sink where they kept diapers and washcloths, before slowly opening the door.

"Here," she said neutrally, and passed out the supplies.

"Thanks." Lee swallowed, paused, looked like he was about to say something, but apparently thought better of it. Instead, he turned to begin walking back through their bedroom.

 _Bedroom._

Kara eyed the bed longingly, then gritted her teeth.

"Lee?"

Immediately he paused and glanced back, which she both loved and hated. "What is it, Kara?"

His expression almost made her lose her nerve. He seemed exhausted, both mentally and physically.

"You were … you were — right," Kara began awkwardly. She had no idea what to do with her hands. Keeping them cupped around her abdomen was stupid, but leaning against the doorjamb would make her seem weak, the last thing she wanted to appear given her request. "I … do still need to sleep, and I thought … if you could do what you did yesterday …"

It wasn't anywhere close to an apology, but she was hoping he wouldn't ask for one.

He didn't. She thought she heard him sigh, though, very softly.

"I will," Lee nodded. "Just let me deal with this first, okay?"

The sigh played over and over in Kara's mind. "If you don't want to you don't need — I can take care of myself," and the finish was so lame that she quickly averted her eyes.

"I _do_ want to," Lee told her, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I just wasn't sure if you'd let me, that's all."

Still she couldn't look up. "It's complicated," Kara whispered.

"Yeah," he said simply, and then was silent for such a long time that she thought he'd left, and glanced to the space where he'd been — where he _remained_. He caught her gaze with such unabashed _longing_ for a moment that she was stunned, and then it was his turn to look quickly away. "Let me deal with this," Lee repeated, his voice almost cracking.

Kara gave him a minute, just as he'd done for her, before walking back to the living area. By the time she'd visited the head for real and pulled the discarded tanks back on, he was kneeling on the floor, busily cleaning their son, like nothing had happened.

She watched them for a moment, trying hard to remember when she'd last changed a diaper. She couldn't.

She watched Lee, his motions steady and efficient and sure as he worked, and thought _You are so much better at this than I will ever be_.

Kara cleared her throat. "When did you start changing him standing up?" she asked, to distract herself. And possibly her husband.

"Oh — uh, a while ago, I guess." Lee's back was to her, though his current task made it hard for him to turn around. "He was getting too squirmy when I put him on his back, or else he'd cry the whole time. I don't think he liked feeling so confined. So once he could stand reliably, I thought … why not take advantage?"

"Why not," Kara echoed. Another thing she hadn't known, another way that Will and Lee had grown closer in the four months she'd been gone. Something else she wasn't part of.

Gods, was she actually frakking _jealous_ of her husband for just taking care of their son? Lame. Really _lame_.

"No down!" Will contributed, and grinned. Then, as his father paused to prepare the new diaper, he giggled and scampered off the changing pad, darting across the room to wrap his arms around Kara's legs.

The long-suffering look on Lee's face was actually comical.

" _Will_ …" he sighed.

" _Lee_ ," Kara returned with a wink, her tone matching his.

Will looked from parent to parent, and his smile widened. "Mama!"

She found herself laughing, for the first time in … four months.

 _Four months._

Kara suppressed a sigh of her own.

"I want up!" announced Will, and stretched his hands as high as they would go towards his mother.

She obliged, despite his bare bottom, and was rewarded when he threw his arms around her neck, squeezing her tightly.

"You need a hug," the boy declared. His voice was muffled, and his face pressed into Kara's neck, but she understood.

Kara smiled, broadly this time, as she kissed the top of his head. Forty-eight hours ago she'd believed him dead, killed as much by her own incompetence as by the Cylons. To hold him now felt like more than she deserved.

Lee was smiling too, though his expression could be better described as a smirk. "Remember, Starbuck, she who laughs first gets to finish the diaper change." He snickered, apparently pleased with himself.

"Yeah?" She was walking toward the changing pad before she knew it, getting carefully to her knees. "Well, he who laughs _last_ gets to deal with _this_."

Kara held up the soiled diaper.

"Hey, I'm not the one hugging a bare-assed kid," Lee retorted. "Especially a boy. They should qualify as registered weapons."

"Oh, and you'd know this from personal experience, would you?" she teased. "I guess it takes one to know one, huh?"

He opened his mouth to retaliate, then abruptly shut it, a faint flush rising to his cheeks. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"You said it, I didn't."

"Oh, well." Lee accepted her offering only somewhat reluctantly. "We'll see who gets the last laugh when the baby is a _girl_ and I'm proven right."

Kara set Will on the changing pad and began to fasten on the new diaper. "You keep dreaming, Apollo. Adama genes prefer boys, everyone knows that."

"I gots a _brother!_ " Will added with a grin.

"What about Thrace genes?" asked Lee, getting to his feet and winking. "You've got a say in this too, remember?"

She snorted. "Actually, I _don't_. It's your boys who decide the parts, Lee, or did you sleep through that day in biology class?"

"Then I can decide to have it be a girl!" He smirked triumphantly again.

"Right, because that worked out _so_ well for you the last time." Kara ruffled Will's hair pointedly.

"Shut up." His back was to her once more as he headed into the bedroom, but she knew instinctively that he was rolling his eyes.

"Your dad's a real goof," she told her son, smirking too. Kara didn't much mind, though. Kidding around with Lee had always been one of her favourite parts of their relationship — or rather, her _teasing_ him, which was more the speed of things — and it felt good to get back to it, good to ditch all the serious shit they'd been dealing with lately, even if only for a few minutes.

She'd expected Will to agree, perhaps even giggle (she loved hearing him laugh, and wished she could bottle it), but when he looked up at her, it was with a serious expression rather reminiscent of his father.

"Mama?"

"What, baby?" Kara guided him to step into his pants.

"You go 'way again?"

"No, Will, I promise you I'm not going anywhere." She concentrated on adjusting his clothing, trying to conceal that her hands were shaking a little.

"You did," Will pointed out. Then, after a pause: "The bad man gotted you."

 _Frak._

Kara shut her eyes briefly.

Lee, she could deflect.

Lee, she could ask not to question her.

Lee, she could even yell at if there was something she really didn't want to answer.

She couldn't ask the same things of her son.

He wouldn't understand, even if she tried.

She cleared her throat. Smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle in his shirt.

"Who told you that?"

"Unca Sam," came the prompt response. "An' I _saw_ the bad man."

"You _what?_ " Kara jerked her gaze up to look him in the eye.

"I saw him. An' he talked, an' Unca Sam said we hadda go, _fast_." Will cocked his head to the side. "An' the bad man gotted you, an' Daddy cried, an' —"

" _Will_ ," she blurted, and he glanced at her expectantly, but her exclamation had been intended only to stem the tide of description. She had no idea, _no idea_ , how to address any of the things he was bringing up.

"Did the bad man getted my baby brother, too?" the boy asked immediately, when no explanation seemed forthcoming.

 _No, but I almost did._

Her son would hate her if he knew. If he could understand. Probably even more than Lee would. It'd be a close contest.

"Unca Sam saved my life!" Will continued to chatter while his mother fumbled for an explanation, her eyes squeezing closed. "Daddy said. An' he said the bad man wannid to _hurt_ me —"

"Will, that's enough," interjected a very quiet voice behind them.

"But Daddy, you _said!_ "

"I know what I said. But we'll talk about it later. Not right here, and not now," Lee said firmly. His tone was one Kara had rarely heard him use with their son.

Will knew it, too. He went silent immediately.

"I want you to take Sam and a couple of your other toys and go into the bedroom. Mama and I will be right there."

"Daddy, I want —"

"Now, please."

There was only a moment's more hesitation before Will obeyed.

Kara took a steadying breath, and accepted the hand her husband offered to pull her to a standing position.

"You okay?" Lee asked presently. She could read real concern in his eyes.

"Yeah." _As long as I keep looking at you, as long as I don't think_. "Good CAG voice there."

He didn't take the bait. "Be serious, Kara."

"I _am_."

Deep sigh from Lee. He seemed to be debating whether to push her, whether to draw out the truth, but in the end he simply scrubbed a hand over his face before spreading his arms in invitation. "Hug?"

Kara obliged, but more for his sake than for her own, because he looked like he needed it. She said nothing, just wrapped her own arms around him and squeezed, and it was only the feel of him and the knowledge that he was _Lee_ which allowed her to keep it together. The whole physical-contact thing was still overrated.

"I'm sorry," he sighed into her shoulder, when several moments had gone by. "He's … he's curious, he has questions …"

"Questions I can't answer," Kara said, and while she hated how curt her voice sounded, it was the truth.

"He's going to want answers, sometime."

"Yeah, well, they won't come from me."

"He's your _son_ , Kara."

"I don't give a shit if he's my next-door neighbour's godsdamned _ghost_."

"He's not going to give up," Lee warned.

"Neither am I."

She thought she felt him shudder, very slightly.


	68. Chapter 68

He awoke with a start.

At first, Lee wasn't sure what had disturbed him. The bedroom was silent. Will was curled up asleep, clutching his bear, in the cot begged off his grandfather. No lights had come on, and the bedside clock told him it was just after oh-three-hundred hours. Not even close to when he needed to be up for his shift, then.

Kara was —

 _Kara._

Automatically he turned to the left, hoping to find her sleeping too, but instinctively knowing that wasn't the case. She'd pulled herself up to a sitting position, and her arms rested across her abdomen. Even in the dark he could see how wide her eyes were, how the expression on her face bespoke innate fear.

"Hey," Lee whispered, making sure not to touch her. Not advisable. Not yet. "Nightmare?"

Kara shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

Nervousness began to creep up behind him, but he kept it controlled for her sake, raising up on one elbow. "Well, do you — do you want me to help you go back to sleep?"

"She's not moving," Kara said softly, and a finger drawn the length of her abdomen was more than enough to communicate her meaning. "Lee, she's not moving."

"Okay. Okay." Now he did move closer, draping an arm around her shoulders and sliding his other hand down to join hers. "How long have you been awake? Are you cramping at all?"

"Dunno." Her gaze drifted to the opposite side of the room, unseeing. "He said this would happen," she mumbled, and Lee got the sense that she wasn't really talking to him anymore, but to that invisible voice she kept hearing, the voice that caused her to drift off and shut down and point knives at him. "He said she'd be killed."

"Kara, _no one_ is killing her," Lee said firmly, pulling her to him and squeezing her as though he could disprove her words with his strength. He hoped he could. "I'll put a bullet in the brain of anyone who even thinks about it. I promise."

He'd intended that to reassure her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect; Kara jerked abruptly away from him, sliding to the side of the bed and swinging her feet over the edge. "Need to get to the head. Check for blood."

Lee fought down panic as he hurried around to help her up. "Look, it's probably just another false alarm. I mean, we had a million of those when you first got pregnant, right? Some we even went down to sickbay for, and she was fine. I'm sure she is now."

Kara said nothing. Just allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, allowed him to guide his arm around her again. He could feel her starting to shake as they walked in awkward two-step toward the head.

Then, from the cot, a sleepy voice: "Daddy?"

"It's okay, buddy." Lee marveled at how unruffled his voice sounded, despite the circumstances. "I'm just helping Mama with something."

"Baby comin'?" Will asked, getting a little more excited.

"No, the baby's not coming yet. Go back to sleep."

"You should have told him the truth," Kara muttered after the door to the head had closed.

"Kara, we don't _know_ what the truth is. Not yet. I don't want to scare him."

"The _truth?_ The frakking truth is that — _damn_." She was trying to fill a water glass at the sink, but her hands trembled so badly that most of the liquid had spilled out.

"Hey," Lee said, for the second time since waking. He pulled her into an awkward one-armed hug, and was surprised when she clung to him tightly. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. You hear me? Whatever dream you had, whatever that Cylon told you, it's not real. It doesn't mean anything. He's just frakking with your head, like they've been doing from the beginning to all of us. Right?"

Again the glass shook in her hand. "It's not that simple, Lee."

Gently he took it from her and filled it, passing it over. "I know, but —"

"Sometimes your worst enemy is yourself," Kara added faintly, like she hadn't heard him.

"Kara, what are you —"

"Nothing," she interrupted, her voice flat, and Lee felt a momentary burst of frustration that he was careful not to let show in his face.

He watched as Kara tugged down her sweats and lowered herself carefully to the toilet. "Anything?" he asked.

"Don't know yet." She took a slow sip of water, and he heard her piss.

"Look, I — I can wait outside, if you want." Lee started to edge toward the door, intending to give her some privacy, but stopped when she shook her head vehemently several times.

He leaned against the sink, feeling tense and tired, wondering if they'd have to make yet another middle-of-the-night dash to sickbay. Those had been disturbingly common on _Pegasus_ in the early months of her pregnancy, which were as rocky as her gestation with Will had been smooth. It seemed like she was always bleeding or cramping or, on one memorable occasion, both. That night Lee had been convinced they were going to lose the baby, and he still wasn't proud of the way he'd almost gone to pieces while they were waiting for the test results to come back. _Kara_ had been the one to comfort and reassure him, a humiliating state of affairs considering she was the one actually experiencing the discomfort and the physical symptoms. But, he supposed he'd always wanted another child more than she had. She wasn't averse to the idea, certainly — he knew she'd never have agreed to remove her contraceptive implant if she had been — but he was far more enthusiastic.

And yet, they'd gotten to this point. Could the baby really die now, long after the shaky three-month mark had passed?

His fists clenched, and he took a deep breath. He did _not_ want to think about that.

"No blood," Kara reported then, and despite the obvious good news, she still sounded numb and scared.

"Any cramps?" Lee pressed.

"No."

"Well, maybe she's just sleeping. They do that, right? After a certain point they sort of get schedules and have sleeping and waking periods —"

He trailed off as she held up her hand for silence. Kara rose slowly and pressed both hands to her stomach, pausing for what seemed like an interminable moment. Lee shut his eyes, already calculating the quickest route to sickbay from their quarters, planning what he would say to Will, wondering how they would break the news to his father. He fully expected to see blood pooled on the floor between Kara's legs when he opened his eyes again, but was met with, of all things, her faint smile.

"Feel," she whispered.

Lee sincerely hoped that was an invitation, because he was moving forward almost before the word left her lips, and clasping his hand over hers. She didn't protest, just guided her left hand to hold him in place, and they waited. At first, nothing. Then — a punch, sudden, fierce, _strong_ , aimed directly at his palm.

Lee almost jumped out of his skin.

"She's —" he choked out.

" _He_ ," Kara corrected, "is fine. I woke him up." Her tone was far lighter, belying the relief she must have felt.

Lee kept his hand where it was and reveled momentarily in the baby's activity, feeling the outline of a tiny foot against his skin. He took a deep breath, hoping to calm his jangling nerves. "So, uh … everything's okay?"

She nodded, more confidently. "Yeah. Pretty sure he's fine."

"You're positive? Maybe just as a precaution we should go down to sickbay and —"

"And what, make them take time out from the really important shit they have to get done there?" Kara glanced away, her throat working convulsively. "It's my frakking fault anyway. Shouldn't have panicked and freaked out just because my kid was trying to get some sleep."

She tugged away from him and reached for her water glass, swallowing the rest of its contents thirstily.

"Don't blame yourself," Lee told her. "You did the right thing. Especially considering all the problems we've had so far."

"Yeah, don't remind me." Kara banged the glass down by the sink and all but marched to the door, only pausing after she'd tugged it open. Lee saw her gaze flick to the bed, and decided he wouldn't make her ask twice in one day.

"Do you want me to help you get back to sleep now?"

Infuriatingly, she answered his question with one of her own. "What time's your shift?"

"Doesn't matter. If it takes you three hours to relax enough to get some rest, well, I guess it takes three hours." Tentatively he came up behind her. "And you still look exhausted."

Kara didn't say anything, choosing instead to start walking towards the bed, which he supposed was her way of agreeing. Lee followed, carefully grasping her arms to help her to a sitting position on the mattress before hurrying around to his side of the bed. Mercifully, Will had fallen back into a deep sleep.

Lee lay down on his left side and opened his arms, and as had happened since they began the ritual, Kara waited several moments to slip into them and pillow her head on his chest. She inhaled and exhaled once, deeply, before relaxing, which was the signal for him to slide his body around her in a gentle embrace.

"Tell Sam not to come tomorrow, all right?" Kara said, and it was less a plea than it was an order. "I told you I don't need a babysitter and I meant it."

Lee suppressed a sigh. "Fine. If you're sure."

"I'm frakking _sure_." She glared. "He's got his own shit to do anyway. Some kind of meetings or something … he was almost late for one today."

"Meetings?" Lee blinked. "What about?"

Kara shrugged. "Dunno. Didn't ask."

"Huh."

"It's probably nothing," she told him. "By the way, how'd _your_ meeting with the Old Man go?"

He knew she was trying for distraction, but decided to let her. She usually chose the topics of conversation when he was helping her settle down, which seemed safer; they wouldn't accidentally stumble across any forbidden lines of discussion.

"It was fine," Lee answered, knowing instinctively this wasn't the time to bring up the interviews. "I'm down to Major again, and he wants me as CAG, so I said I'd do it. He knows you commanded the air group on _Pegasus_ but he said he's looking for someone with a little more direct wartime experience."

"I don't care." Kara's smile turned mischievous. "'Sides, I'm not a big enough dipstick for the job."

"That right?" He ruffled her hair affectionately. "You didn't seem to have the same reservations on my ship."

"There were perks. Such as getting to frak my Commander whenever I wanted."

"Ahh, I see. No job benefits here."

"Nope."

"He does want you back as flight instructor, though." Lee gently steered the conversation back to the topic at hand. "There'll be some new recruits, obviously, but also a lot of people re-upping, pilots who mustered out to live on the planet. The Admiral wants you to put together a refresher course for them, so they can be recertified."

Unexpectedly, she looked away. "I haven't flown for months, Lee. You know that."

"Yeah, I know."

"And I won't be flying for months more," Kara reminded him.

"That doesn't matter," Lee assured her. "We'll work it like we did when you were having Will. Any maneuvers that need to be done in the air, I'll take care of them."

She was silent for a long moment. Her reply, when it came, was nearly inaudible. "And what if I'm just not ready for that yet?"

"Kara, no one — no one's saying you have to start tomorrow," he answered, feeling surprise grip him unpleasantly. "But you seemed to be implying you wanted to stay busy, so I thought …"

"Look, I am pretty much the last person in this entire godsdamned fleet you'd want taking responsibility for a bunch of nuggets right now," Kara said bluntly. "It'd do you a lot of good to remember that."

"Why?" Lee asked, astonished at his own boldness. "Because — because of Zak?"

He resented having to bring up his brother now, one more issue to add to the multitude already between them.

"And there it is," she muttered.

"There _what_ is?"

" _Questions_ , Lee." Despite the derision in her tone, Kara didn't move away, as he would have expected her to. "You always say you won't ask anything but when it comes right down to it that's worth frak-all. Right?"

"Kara, this is _different_ , and you know it! This isn't me bugging you to tell me things! This is me asking you very legitimately to explain something you've said and to say why you can't do a particular job. And if I'm wondering you can _bet_ the Admiral will have the exact same issues, so you may as well come up with that explanation now because I don't want to go to him tomorrow and tell him you haven't got one." Lee felt extremely exasperated.

Once again she didn't speak, and her breath was so even he thought she'd fallen asleep. But she shifted against him very slightly, after what seemed like about five minutes.

"I need to be with Will," Kara said, her voice a mask of calm. "At least until the baby comes."

"But after Will was born —"

"Look, Lee … I'm in a different place now," she interrupted. More of that same strange calm bled through. "I — I don't know how else to explain it to you. But I got out of that cell, and it's like someone painted the world in different colours. I need to be with him. I need to make sure he's okay. Because I look at him and all I can think about is the ways he could get hurt. And who could hurt him. He almost died on New Caprica. I don't think you realize how frakking close that was. I can't let it happen again."

"Kara, it _won't_ ," said Lee with as much certainty as he could muster. His earlier annoyance evaporated, he had a sudden urge to hold her closer, and did. " _No one_ on this ship would hurt him. You know that."

She shook her head, and when he looked down, her smile was almost sad. "No, I don't."

Lee's chest ached, and he closed his eyes briefly. "What about when the baby is born? Are you saying … are you saying you're going to resign?"

"No," Kara said again, beginning to trace slow circles on his chest with her index finger. "Then I think you should take over."

"Take — take over? What, you mean … being with the kids?"

She nodded, grimly.

"Look, you know I can't do that!" He was both gentle and incredulous, a difficult balance. "I just finished telling you Dad wants me to step back in as CAG, and there's no way I'll get everything done without a certain number of duty shifts."

"So what, you won't ever be here?"

Lee took a deep breath, marveling at how she could twist his words so easily. "Kara, no. Come on. You _know_ how I feel about that."

A shrug. "Like father, like son, Lee."

"We are _not_ starting this, dammit," he insisted, even as his stomach clenched in reflexive anger at her implications. "You know the truth and I know the truth and that should be enough for both of us. What happened with Zak and I is not going to happen with Will and the new baby. And honestly …" Lee hesitated, but decided to plunge ahead. "I'm a little hurt that you'd even suggest it. I've worked hard to avoid that. I've worked _damn_ hard."

"But in the same frakking breath you're saying you can't stick around and take care of them!" Kara snorted. "Nice hypocrisy you've got going there."

"Yes, but there's a difference between being away _all_ the damn time like my father was and taking on regular duty shifts! That's not hypocrisy, it's _realism_ , especially right now!" He paused, taking several deep breaths, controlling his temper. "Look, I know what you're doing, and it won't work. What are you afraid of?" A sudden epiphany: "Why don't _you_ want to stay with them?"

"Dunno." She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Guess maybe I do want to get back into the fight after all. Get revenge."

"It's just as important for the kids to have their mother as their father," Lee reminded her.

"You'd be better. Especially if you're right and the baby's a girl." Kara's voice had grown small.

"Why?"

"Because you're the one who wants a girl, Lee, not me."

"Maybe," he allowed, and wondered exactly how far he ought to push her. "But I don't think that's the only reason."

Another shrug, and she burrowed more deeply into him, tucking her head under his chin as she always did right before nodding off. "We should get back to sleep."

"Are you afraid you wouldn't know how to raise a girl?" Lee persisted gently.

"You talk too frakking much," Kara mumbled in a tone that was obviously supposed to sound tired.

He didn't buy it.

"Kara, do you … do you even want this baby?" Her refusal to go to sickbay at first, her disconnection from the ultrasound, the episode right after it, how quickly she'd recovered when the child began to kick again, all flashed through Lee's mind in a sudden instant of nervous clarity.

A long pause, so long it scared him, the length sufficient for him to believe her silence might be answer enough.

"That's the problem, Lee," she whispered finally.

"Problem?"

"I want her too much."

***

Talking could, she supposed, be good for one thing.

It made you realize what you actually wanted.

Kara knew now, and it stunned her that she hadn't figured it out before.

Revenge.

She'd meant everything she said, even the stuff she wished she hadn't told him. But then Lee could always draw things out of her that should've stayed hidden. He'd been good at it right from the beginning. Right from the first Cylon attacks when he stood so earnestly by her Viper and she blurted out the truth about Zak. Since then, he had proven himself expert at getting her to talk about shit that was off-limits.

It was one of those unfortunate traits he shared with his brother. Zak had been the same.

But the need for vengeance, a half-formed thought until Lee dragged it into the open, was now crystallized, and the only question remaining was _how_.

 _Why_ and even _who_ didn't matter. If she could punish someone, _anyone_ , for making her feel the way she did and pointing a knife at her husband and scaring her son half to death and promising to kill her second child if it was born among toasters, Kara figured she might at least _start_ feeling normal again.

Normal was all she wanted.

She wanted to tease Lee again. Wanted to quit flinching every time he sat next to her and touched her shoulder or her arm. She wanted him to stop tiptoeing around her with that look on his face like she might break if he made a wrong move. She wanted to relax in his arms. She wanted to let him lie against her abdomen, which she knew he liked. She wanted to throw him down in bed and ride him until they both exploded, without seeing the face or voice of a psychotic Cylon.

She wanted to comfort Lee, in her own screwed-up way, because gods knew he needed it too.

 _Normal._

But she couldn't cut through all the crap in the way.

And she couldn't tell him just how much vengeance appealed to her. She felt sure he wouldn't approve.

So Kara waited, waited until the following morning when Lee left for his first shift, nervousness in every line on his face. Will clung to his father for a surprisingly long time before being reminded that he was staying with Kara, at which point he seemed to calm. She still felt jealous, and guilty, and stupid.

Spending the morning with an active two-year-old was taxing, far more than she remembered, and by midday Kara was torn between leaving their quarters with her son and collapsing on the bed to coerce him into a nap. (How the hell had Lee managed by himself, she wondered, with needing to take care of Will _and_ command an entire battlestar?) But sleep would be impossible, even though she was exhausted. So she gathered aloofness around her, picked up her son, and headed out.

The mess hall seemed the only logical place to go. Sure, there were probably other spots, better spots, spots where a boisterous toddler would be more welcome. But Kara didn't know of those, and she had none of the patience required to seek them out. Those in the mess hall would just have to live with a bit of rugrat-related noise, and if they didn't like it, they could get the hell away.

She studiously ignored the stares thrown her way, stares from people who'd stayed on _Galactica_ , and stares from those who had not. Will chattered happily in her ear about nothing in particular as she got a large platter of rice and mixed vegetables for them to share. He hadn't brought up New Caprica again, not since the previous night, and she was keen to keep it that way.

"Where do you wanna sit, baby?" Kara asked, as much to avoid having to make the decision herself as to distract him.

"Ummm …" Will screwed up his face in thought, and allowed the index finger of his left hand to drift lazily around the room. "Dere!" he exclaimed finally, pointing to a table in the middle.

Felix Gaeta was its only occupant.

Kara sucked in a breath and marched over without further ceremony. Explaining exactly why she'd rather not sit there would take too damn much time.

"Hi!" said Will brightly to Gaeta once they sat down.

The latter offered a small smile. "Hello there."

Kara said nothing, choosing instead to offer her son a forkful of rice.

"That's _gross!_ " he informed her a moment later.

Gaeta chuckled.

"Maybe, but it's all they've got," she replied. "So either you eat, or you stay hungry. Personally, I'm eating."

"No candy?" Will's face fell.

"No candy," his mother confirmed.

" _Frak_ ," the two-year-old muttered, vehemently.

That drew another snort from their lunch companion. "Kid's got quite the mouth on him," Gaeta remarked.

Kara shrugged. "Growing up on a battlestar, it happens." Then, deciding she should at least attempt to make conversation: "How ya doing?"

"You know, I'm … making do." The other stared into his own platter. "How are you?"

 _Oh, fine. Tried to kill Lee the other day. Almost murdered both his kids, but hey, who's counting? Oh, and I keep having visions of the crazy-ass Cylon who tried to make me love him. That'll look real good on the psych profile._

"I'm good." The lie came quickly and without effort. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I heard about your … situation." Gaeta wouldn't look at her. "You were —"

"Right," Kara interrupted, keenly aware that Will was hanging on to every word. "I just try not to think about it anymore. You know?"

She spooned in several mouthfuls of vegetables, her heart pounding, the illusion of Lee's voice warning her not to do what she so desperately wanted and pick a fight. There were so many reasons why that wasn't a good idea. There were so many reasons why it was.

 _He was on the planet. He could've_ done _something, for gods' sake._

"Mama," Will said, almost like he was trying to echo his father's imagined pleas. Or he might just have been complaining because she was making him accept more rice.

Kara ignored him, for the moment, and re-focused on Gaeta.

"Kinda like you," she continued, her voice a low hiss now. "Sitting in your plushy little office on _Colonial One_ doing all of Baltar's dirty work for him. Probably never even thought about what was happening to me, right?"

Gaeta glanced at her rounded abdomen, and sucked in a breath. "I didn't know about your situation. If I had, I would've tried to get you out."

Kara sneered.

 _Like hell you didn't know._

You were practically his second-in-command. Writing all the briefings, looking at all the documents before they wound up in Baltar's hands, listening to the Cylons brag about what they were up to.

How could you not _know?_

"As I've said about fifty times now, I was serving the legal president of the Colonies," Gaeta blurted suddenly, like he'd read her mind. "We all elected him, remember?"

"So that's supposed to excuse it?" Kara snapped.

"What do you want me to say?" He was sounding desperate. "Maybe I could've done more. But I thought that when the Cylons landed, it was important for me to keep my job. To help from the inside."

"By propping Baltar up and letting the Cylons walk all over us?" she demanded, her anger rising.

 _By leaving me to make a choice no one should ever have to make?_

"No!" Gaeta stood abruptly, leaning across the table, his palms spread flat like he expected her to frisk him. "No. I fed information to the Resistance. I set up dead-drops. There was a dog bowl — I passed along Cylon positions, internal memoranda —"

"Hooray, Felix." Kara layered her tone with as much sarcasm as she could. "You're a frakkin' hero."

His mouth opened and closed several times, wordlessly, and a part of her hoped he'd continue the argument or maybe even try punching her out. She had killed a toaster five times with shit that wasn't even weapons-grade, so she felt sure she could handle one frakking collaborator. In fact, she itched for the fight.

But Gaeta didn't give it to her. After several more moments of staring, he bit his lip, collected his tray, and left the mess hall.

" _Frak!_ " Kara spat, and slammed one fist into the tabletop. The pain focused her, giving her an outlet for the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"You mad?" Will sounded nervous.

She sucked in a breath, reminding herself that her son did not need to see her like this. "Baby, I'm not mad at you, okay?" she told him tiredly. Memories of a similar conversation with Kacey threatened to intrude. "I'm mad at — at Felix."

"Felix do something bad?"

"He, um … yeah. I guess he kinda did."

"Give him time-out," Will suggested, gazing up at his mother with a winning smile.

Kara was confused until another dim memory pushed itself to the surface, this time of a new disciplinary technique Lee had wanted to try before the New Caprica incident. Something about sitting with Will in a chair for a while after a misbehavior, waiting for the kid to calm down. Lee obviously started that while she'd been gone. Something else she'd missed, another decision she hadn't been a part of.

"Mama?"

" _What?_ " She clenched her fists again.

"Why're they looking?"

Kara followed his gaze. Sure enough, half the frakking mess hall now had its eyes trained on her.

She couldn't muster a comeback.

Couldn't yell at them to stop.

The walls felt like they were closing in.

"That's it, we're going," she snapped, grabbing up the tray, lifting Will to her hip. What a frakking mistake this had been.

"Where?" the boy wanted to know.

"I dunno. _Somewhere_." She wanted to find Lee, but he was on duty, and the very idea that she should _need_ him like that infuriated her.

No. What she needed was to be gone, _now_.

Kara dumped her tray by the door and was just about to charge into the corridor when a voice called out behind her.

"Hey, Starbuck!"

She barely turned to acknowledge the woman behind her. "Seelix."

Diana, encumbered by neither toddlers nor pregnancy, caught up quickly. "Where you headed?"

"Away from this shithole," Kara growled, not caring how she sounded. "You?"

"No place special." The other reached out and tousled Will's hair. "Hey, squirt."

The two-year-old glanced up at Kara. "What's that?"

"What, squirt? It means someone little, like you," she explained. "It's a nickname."

Will looked indignant. "I _big!_ " he insisted. Then, turning to Seelix, the boy added, "I gonna be a _big_ brother!"

"I can see that," smiled Seelix.

"Oh, excuse me, _big_ ," Kara snickered to her son. "Well if you're so big, maybe _you_ can carry _me_ back to quarters, huh?"

He shot her a withering glance. "Not _that_ big."

"When's the baby coming, Will?" Diana asked.

Will screwed up his face, apparently thinking hard. Then he beamed, announcing brightly, "Tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?" The other looked a question at Kara, who discreetly shook her head. "Wow. You must be pretty excited."

"Yup!"

"And your mom must be pretty tired."

"She's fine." Kara shrugged. "Holding up."

"Good to hear." Seelix stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Starbuck, I saw you talking to Felix Gaeta earlier."

Kara suddenly felt defensive. "Just a conversation. Not by choice, believe me."

"Wouldn't have been mine either," the other woman nodded, then lowered her voice. "I can't believe they're letting him sit in the frakking _mess_. After all he did for Baltar."

"Yeah, well, guess it's all in who you know," Kara muttered back. "Lee told me last night they've got him back in CIC fixing the comms system."

Seelix shook her head. "Frak me."

"No justice in the worlds," said Kara sardonically.

"Maybe not," Seelix allowed. Her tone grew quieter still. "But what if I told you there was a way to get that justice?"

Kara sucked in a breath. "Excuse me?"

"What if I told you that some of those frakkers who collaborated — the really bad ones like Gaeta, the ones who killed people by propping up the administration — could be prosecuted and punished for their crimes? That there is some justice for those who were made to suffer on New Caprica? For those who _died?_ "

 _Justice._

Justice for people who were imprisoned for four godsdamned months by Cylons.

Justice for sons who went without their mothers. Husbands who went without their wives.

Justice for unborn babies who —

"I'd ask you what the hell I had to do to get in on it," Kara said, rage burning fiercely within her again.

Seelix smiled. "Find someone who can watch that kid for a few hours, and I'll tell you."


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kacey's reappearance here was inspired by the canon scene in "Torn", but as you'll see, it bears little actual resemblance to what went on in said scene. The circumstances of this story obligated me to put my own twist on it, which I was happy to do. :)

"It's a jury," Tigh said firmly. "I wanna make that clear. It's not about settling scores or personal grudges. It's a jury."

"We're just dealing with the worst of the worst," added Galen Tyrol, seated across from Kara, scrutinizing her closely. "People that did more than put on an NCP uniform or make a deal with the Cylons."

"They're the killers, the real traitors," Jean Barolay growled.

Kara looked around the room. It was tiny, cramped, too warm, with papers strewn across the table. Tigh was glaring out of one eye. The other was covered with a taped bandage. Galen had lost weight. Seelix and Barolay both had scratches all over their faces, on their necks.

"Yeah, but none of this is … legal, right?" she asked.

"It's legal," Galen assured her, and passed over a sheet of paper.

On it was a death order, direct from the office of President Tom Zarek, with Felix Gaeta's name at the top.

"You gotta be kidding me," Kara breathed.

"That's why we need to know right now: are you in or out?" The Colonel — or ex-Colonel, or whoever the hell he was — fixed her with his creepy stare.

She closed her eyes.

Felt the baby move and tumble.

Saw Will's frightened features as his mother brandished a knife at his father.

Kara looked directly at Tigh.

"In," she said.

He nodded. "Good. We've already been through the evidence. So just take your time."

She shuffled papers, made a show of looking at them and reading them carefully, but saw nothing. Her mind played Lee's face in a relentless loop, the slump of his shoulders before the door of the head had closed, his subconscious disappointment every time she failed to say "I love you," how he'd peered at the ultrasound screen like he wished he could hold the baby right then, all the things New Caprica had cost.

She saw Leoben's face too.

Leoben, telling her he loved her.

Leoben, inviting her into the bedroom with him.

Leoben, using Kacey as a bargaining chip.

Leoben, using Kacey _at all_.

Leoben, staring at her pregnancy like a predator sizing up its prey.

Kara glanced to the sheet in front of her: a death list. Names of people to be executed on New Caprica for resisting the Cylons.

"You telling me that Gaeta saw this list and didn't do a damn thing about it?" she demanded.

 _Just like he didn't do a damn thing about that dollhouse._

"We have no way of knowing what Gaeta did or did not do when he saw the list," Galen cautioned.

The baby kicked out again, sharply.

"My gods," Kara mumbled. "The whole thing's like a bad dream, only we woke up and the traitors are all still here." She paused to look at each member of the Circle. "Guilty."

"That's five to none in favour of guilty," Seelix announced. "It's gotta be unanimous. Chief, you're the last to vote."

Galen was about to reply when suddenly the hatch was wrenched open. Kara kept her eyes down, not caring about the identity of the intruder, until she heard Tigh bark, "Get outta here, Major."

Kara froze.

 _How the hell did he —_

"I'd like to talk to my wife," said Lee, in a tone that brooked no arguments. "I'd like to do it now."

She glanced at the Colonel, hoping he'd let her off the hook and say she couldn't leave until all the votes had been tallied, or some other bullshit procedural excuse, but Tigh wasn't biting. "We already have your vote. Take a break," he told her.

Reluctantly Kara heaved herself to her feet, and followed Lee out of the room.

They faced each other in a darkened corner of the hangar deck, far enough that no one could hear what they were saying. Lee looked as pissed as she'd ever seen him, but she knew there was no point in winding him up more. Better just to let him pace and fuss and fume and work it out of his system.

"Kara, what the hell are you doing?" he demanded finally, facing her with his arms crossed.

"I don't know, Lee, why don't you tell me?" Kara spat back. Convenient way of finding out exactly how much he knew.

Lee didn't disappoint. "Those people —" he gestured back to the Circle's room "— are accusing their fellow citizens of being collaborators and airlocking them. Without trial, without representation, without _anything!_ It's a complete violation of Colonial law and it shows a total disregard for due process. I can't believe you'd get mixed up with those bastards."

"Oh, and you're gonna ride in here like the fleet's poster boy and stop it?" she sneered. "You weren't down there. You don't _know_ what they did."

"I know enough." He glared, all but crackling with anger.

" _How_ , Lee? Huh? Did you stand outside and frakking spy on us, is that how you know?"

"As a matter of fact, I didn't have to. I saw your note that you'd left Will with Sam, and went to see them. Sam told me everything."

"Lords, with friends like these …" Kara rolled her eyes.

"Sam did the right thing, Kara!" Lee barked. "He saw what was happening, how frakking _illegal_ this is, and he got out! He quit because he's not looking for ways to keep killing people!"

She looked away, not able to bear his gaze on her any longer. "I need this, Lee."

"So what?" he demanded. "Throwing a few people out an airlock is gonna make you feel better about yourself? 'Cause believe me, those aren't the people that kept you locked in that room!"

"They'll do!" Kara forced a hard edge into her tone, determined to make him see her point of view. "And not just for me but for your son, and for our baby. Not to mention every person we left back on that planet because _someone_ has gotta pay. So you can either get with it, or you can get lost."

Lee clenched and unclenched his fists, releasing a long breath. "Is that what you want, Kara? You want me to leave?"

The words cut her, and she crossed her arms, wrapping them tightly around herself. "I told you, godsdammit, I am not the same person I was when I left and you are just gonna have to accept that. I saw things … and did things … and made promises … that you can't even imagine and you wouldn't want to if you knew." Kara bit her lip. "And I look at you … and I want to tear your eyes out just for looking at me."

"Kara —"

"I just wanna hurt someone, and it might as well be you." Her voice was a whisper now. "So you should probably go before that happens."

"Kara, I'm not leaving." He said it so simply and calmly, all the anger drained out of him, that she believed him instantly. "You _know_ that. You know it's not that easy."

She snorted indelicately. "Nothing's _easy_ , Lee."

"There's more at stake here than just you and I," Lee replied, his eyes fixing on her pregnancy. "You know that too. You know all the reasons we have to try and make this work. We have to be patient with each other. And I'm willing to do that. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help you."

 _Yeah, and will you still feel that way when I tell you I almost killed your daughter?_

"You can't." Kara turned partially away. "No one can."

"I have to try."

He sounded so sincere.

She wanted desperately to believe him.

But couldn't.

Couldn't.

She didn't _deserve_ to believe him.

"Let me try." He'd come up right behind her.

"Lee —" and she was so close, _too close_ , to talking, to saying everything she shouldn't say, all the things that would drive her husband away from her and Will with him, and the baby once it was born. So Kara changed directions immediately, clamping off those thoughts in her mind. "How?" she asked roughly.

Lee's hand rested, gently, on her shoulder. "Not this way," he began, his voice tentative like his grasp. "Not by breaking the law. There's another way, Kara."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

There was a long pause, so long that she turned to look at him. Lee bit his lip, suddenly seeming nervous, but as soon as he realized he had her attention, he looked her straight in the eye.

"I'm talking about … talking." Seeing Kara about to protest, he held up his hand for silence. "And I know what you're going to say. You're going to say I promised not to ask questions. I did. But I'm scared that promise is going to hurt you too much. More than both of us know."

"Lee —" she said again, and this time it was equal parts anger and fear. Anger that he'd break his promise. Fear that she might _want_ him to.

"You were right about one thing, Kara." Lee kept speaking, his voice growing firmer as the words came to him. "You're not the same person you were before. You couldn't be, not after what they put you through. But I need your help. I need you to help me understand who you are now. So that —"

"So that _what_ , godsdammit?" This time Kara interrupted _him_. "So you can cut and run as soon as you figure out you don't like who I am now?"

"No," Lee answered. "So we can stay together and raise our family, just like we said we'd do before all this shit happened."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not the same anymore, and you know it," Kara snapped rudely. "No more planet, no more settling down, no more Cylons saying they'll just leave us the frak alone. Crappy fantasy anyway."

"Nothing has changed for me," Lee said simply. "I still want all those things, and we're still gonna have them. It'll just be a little different than how we thought, that's all."

"Yeah, right," muttered Kara, crossing her arms and starting to walk back towards the Circle's room. "I'm going back to a little place called _reality_ , Lee. Let me know when you're there too."

"You can't run away from this, Kara."

"Really? Watch me."

"We'll need to talk about it sometime. If not now, then when you get back to our quarters. And I don't want to fight in front of Will again, if that's what this is going to turn into."

She paused, grinding her teeth. Bastard was right as usual.

"What the hell _do_ you want?" Kara demanded finally, spinning to face him.

He held up his arms, a gesture of peace. "To talk. Okay? Just to talk."

She lifted an eyebrow. "About?"

Now Lee did look down. Started scrutinizing the deck under his feet as he said, "The Admiral … wants to collect a series of witness testimonies regarding New Caprica, from Fleet people who were down there. You're — you're on the list of those he'd like to hear from."

"So _that's_ it, huh?" Kara sneered. "Your daddy wants something in an _official_ capacity, so you get to be the good little soldier and drag me in for an inquisition. Right?"

"Actually, you know what?" Lee raised his voice. "I said no at first. I said I wouldn't do it. I said I didn't think anyone should make you talk about New Caprica if you didn't want to and I _certainly_ wouldn't be the one to do it if he insisted. I fought as hard as I could to keep my promise!"

"Yeah, and that worked so frakking well, Lee, because guess what, you're still asking me," she pointed out, her tone matching his. "And you know damn well what my answer is."

"He was going to order you to do it," her husband went on, like he hadn't even heard her. "I told him that wouldn't be necessary. I said I'd talk to you first."

"You think _orders_ mean anything to me?" Kara hissed.

"Maybe they don't." Lee was back to looking at her. "And maybe this time it wouldn't be a problem. Maybe he'd let you spend a couple days in hack and forget all about it. But there'll be another time. Farther down the road. Maybe there _will_ be a military inquisition, or a trial, or both, and maybe my father won't be able to stop it. Maybe whoever's running it won't let me be the one to talk to you. They'll say I'm too close. They'll make you tell your story to an impartial source. It might be Sergeant Hadrian. Or it could be Laura Roslin, or the Quorum, or a stranger. Or you might have to stand up in front of a full court with a jury and reporters and a judge and tell it there."

She swallowed, bile rushing involuntarily up her throat.

Lee bit his lip. "Is that really what you want, Kara? Do you really want to leave it so you end up telling a packed courtroom how that Cylon kept you prisoner and tried to take our baby?"

"I _won't!_ " Her shout was not only a refusal. It was a denial.

"You won't have a choice," he told her, and there was fear in his voice; he did not want this either.

"There's always a choice," she spat, wrapping her arms about herself, a shield against his words.

"I can make it easier for you." Lee was all but pleading now. "No officials, no press, no one else in the room but you and me. We could take a break whenever either of us needed to. And the only other person to see your testimony would be the Admiral. Maybe Helo."

So Bill Adama would know too that she'd almost killed both his grandchildren. Add that to Zak, and to Lee's shooting, and it'd be a frakking miracle if he didn't throw _her_ out the airlock.

Helo'd had a daughter of his own, and lost her. What the hell would _he_ think?

"What if it goes to trial anyway?" Kara challenged in a low voice, buying time.

Lee hesitated for only a moment before replying, "I'll ask my father to submit the military record to whoever wants it for a trial. It would stand in for your verbal testimony so you wouldn't have to give it again." He paused once more, longer this time. "And if there's something that's particularly emotionally damaging to you with no intrinsic military value, I will fight to have it removed from the record. Permanently."

From the way his eyes met hers, Kara would almost have figured he knew, except there was no way he could. Sam hadn't heard the thing she was most desperately trying to conceal, so he wouldn't have told. It was probably the Farm, or Kacey, or both. Which was pretty damn disturbing in its own right, but had nothing on her promise.

"They won't agree to that." She tilted her chin defiantly.

"Yes they will," Lee fired back, cold steel in every inch of him now. "I'll get Dad on my side. I'll do whatever I have to do. I promise you that."

 _I have no reason not to trust him_ , Kara thought.

She'd trusted him with so many other things. So many other ugly truths. He'd accepted them all.

 _How the hell can he accept this one?_

She couldn't talk. She _couldn't_.

"Look, this could be your only chance to start moving past what happened on the planet," Lee said, far more gently now. "You need it, _I_ need it, Will needs it. The baby …"

Kara could sense him coming up behind her. He put his hand on her shoulder again; then, when she did not resist, Lee slid both arms around her and hugged her carefully from behind. She wanted to tug away, but it felt … surprisingly comforting.

"Lee …" she mumbled for a third time. Her husband waited, but she couldn't think of anything else, and trailed off. There was no way to completely explain just how much New Caprica had screwed her up. There never would be.

Lee began to stroke her hair, keeping his other arm wrapped around her. "It'll help, Kara. Cottle says talking will help."

"Bullshit."

"You can ask him yourself if you want."

Kara knew she would do no such thing. "How long?"

He got it, immediately, much to her annoyance. "We'd probably start next week. Dad wants to get it going as soon as possible, but it'll take that long just to coordinate everything."

"Fine." She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut, pulling away.

Lee seemed too surprised by that response to keep holding his wife. "Really? I mean — you mean — you'll do it?"

"Not for you, and not for your father," Kara replied icily. "I'm doing it for Will and the baby because you said it'd help them. Otherwise I would not frakking bother. Understand?"

"It _will_ help them," Lee insisted, his tone full of conviction. "I know it. You'll feel better, and they'll feel better."

"Good." She turned, jerking her thumb toward the room off the hangar deck. "I gotta get back."

"Kara …" he started, pleadingly.

Kara whipped back around only to glare.

" _Don't_ ," she snapped, " _push it_."

And she walked away.

***

Lee didn't. He knew without needing to be told that the thing to do was take his victory, such as it was, and shut the hell up. He hadn't survived over a year of being married to Kara without developing _some_ instincts.

So he said nothing more to her about New Caprica — or the Circle, which was disbanded by newly-installed President Laura Roslin almost as quickly as her predecessor had established it — and focused instead on Will, and on continuing to be there for his wife, and on the baby's impending arrival. The first task Lee set himself was to get them into larger quarters, _married_ quarters, where they could have two bedrooms instead of just one and thus be a little more comfortable. That done, he then met with his father to discuss the details of the New Caprica interviews. As expected, the Admiral was not pleased with the concessions Lee had made.

"You can't pick and choose which facts to collect!" Bill fumed. "That would defeat the purpose of the entire exercise."

"I disagree," Lee replied patiently. "There are still a lot of important things, militarily, that she can tell us. This concession applies only to those facts that lack value for us and that would be too damaging to put on the record. That's all."

"I don't like it. It smacks of a cover-up."

"Oh, so you think the press is going to come sniffing around?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Not to mention the president."

Lee clenched his fists, willing away momentary anger. "Look, I've already told you a lot of what I know, and do you really think Kara wants it spread around what happened at that Farm on Caprica, or that she was kept prisoner by a Cylon?"

"Kara's tough," said Bill, and his tone could not have sounded more dismissive to his son. "She'll take it."

"You've barely frakking seen her since she got back!" Lee countered furiously. "She is _not_ the same person she was before New Caprica. She even told me so herself. I'm the one who's had to live with her, I'm the one who's had knives pointed at me and watched her freak the hell out. You haven't. So with all due respect, _sir_ , maybe you're not the best one to judge."

The older man sighed, and removed his glasses to polish them on his uniform. "I appreciate that, but we can't start attaching conditions to a testimony. It would set a dangerous precedent."

"Not for Kara. Not now. She _needs_ these conditions in order to agree to testify in the first place. If she doesn't get them, she doesn't talk to us. And telling her it'll help to talk means frak-all to her. She doesn't believe that. Words don't mean very much to her. It's actions that count." Lee fixed his father with a penetrating stare, hoping to remind Bill that he had once said the same thing himself.

"Lee —" Bill broke off and closed his mouth without saying anything, a sure sign that he was running out of ways to argue.

Lee took that as a good sign. "Dad, remember what you told me when Kara went down on that moon? After President Roslin convinced us to give up the search? I asked you why we'd done it. Why we'd used almost half the fleet's fuel reserves to go after one person. What was the point? And you said —"

"Kara was family," Bill murmured, continuing the memory, his gaze suddenly distant.

"She is. She's my wife. She's the mother of my children. The mother of _your_ grandchildren."

"Sometimes you break the rules." The Admiral glanced at his son.

"Exactly."

Lee walked out of his father's office five minutes later.

He had his concessions.

***

"I don't want to do this."

"I know you don't."

"I mean, I …" He trailed off helplessly. "I don't even know if I _can_."

She laid a sympathetic hand on his. "But you're the best person for it. You're her husband."

Lee shook his head. "Somehow that makes it even worse. This is a military thing. I'm being _ordered_ to question her. I didn't choose it."

"But it will help her," Dee pointed out. "Talking will help."

" _She_ doesn't believe that."

"I'm sure Kara believes a lot of things that aren't true."

Lee couldn't help smiling at that. "Yeah. She thinks we're having another boy."

Dee winked. "And you know differently?" she asked.

"Well, not for sure. Kara still doesn't want to find out until the baby's born. But I don't know, I just have this funny feeling. More than I did for Will. Girls tend to skip a generation in my family, so we're about due for another one. And I figured out Kara was pregnant before she did. Little things like that."

"You knew before she did?"

His friend looked so unabashedly skeptical that he laughed.

"I don't mean I had some kind of stupid premonition or something," Lee said, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the expression on Dee's face. "I guess … I guess I just accepted it before she did. I wanted another baby more than she did." He stood abruptly from his position on the couch; something about this conversation made him want to continue it while standing. "Sometimes I still … I think she's doing me a favour. Like she doesn't want it but she knows I do, so she feels she has to. Or — or something."

His gaze found the floor, and he blushed.

"Lee, you and I both know no one could make Kara do anything she didn't want to do," Dee assured him. "And she's excited in her own way. Which is different from yours, obviously, but that doesn't make the feeling any less valid."

"She _was_ excited at one point, maybe, but not now." Still with his back to her, he peered through his bedroom, to his son's. From this angle Lee could just see Will and Kara, curled around each other on Will's bed, napping. "Now she's …"

"What?"

Lee watched them for a few moments, watched the boy snuggle more deeply into his mother's arms, watched her unconsciously pull him more tightly against her.

"Scared," he said finally. "She's scared. Of what, I have no frakking idea. But I think something happened to her on the planet. Something involving the baby. I don't know. Everything … everything changed." Lee sighed, massaging his closed eyelids with the tips of his fingers. "Look, I — I didn't mean to unload on you like this. Just … feel free to tell me to shut the hell up if I'm annoying you or —"

"Lee, I don't mind," replied Dee, so firmly that he believed her instantly. "I came by to see how you were. And when I asked you and you said fine, I knew you weren't telling me even part of the truth."

"I guess not." Lee offered a wan smile, then resumed walking around the living area.

She waited.

He didn't speak.

Just kept walking, his arms crossed.

Dee broke the silence. Her voice was soft.

"So how are you? _Really?_ "

"Really," Lee echoed, and she saw his eyes dart toward the bedroom again. "It's been … what … a week since the exodus?"

"A week," Dee confirmed quietly.

"It may as well have been yesterday," he mumbled. "Nothing's changed. Nothing _is_ changing. She won't tell me what happened. She won't tell Will what happened. That freaks him out, because he's even more curious about the New Caprica stuff than I am, and Kara's never outright told him he can't know something before. She was always way more open than me, actually. But not now." Lee sighed. "Will wants his mother back. He wants the person who left _Pegasus_ with him four months ago. But …"

"But?" prompted Dee.

"But I don't know if that person's coming back. I don't know if I can bring her back. I don't know if my son can. I don't know if things will be better or worse when the baby comes."

"Lee, she just needs time."

He snorted bitterly. "Yeah. _Time_. Time is what's screwing this whole thing up, Dee. Every time I think things are settling down something comes along and fraks it up. We were just getting comfortable with the idea of another baby when the Cylons attacked. Now it's almost ready to be born and Kara's messed up again. And the testimony that's supposed to make it better, you know when that is?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Tomorrow, right?"

"Tomorrow." Lee paused, standing right next to her. "The next day … the next day is my brother's birthday."

"Zak?" Dee asked gently.

 _Who the hell else would I be talking about?_ Lee thought angrily. He didn't show his annoyance, though, understanding that she was only trying to help.

"Yeah." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Everything has to happen at once, dammit."

"At least the tribunal will be a distraction," she pointed out. From living with them on the _Pegasus_ for nearly a year, Dee knew most, if not all, of the pertinent history: Kara's relationship with Zak, the nature of the brother-bond between him and Lee, and how both Kara and Lee still grieved for him. Kara had never spoken of her decision to pass Zak in Basic Flight training when he should have failed, and neither had Lee, understanding that it was still an extremely touchy subject.

"Not exactly the kind we need, though," Lee said then in response to his friend's statement. "But I just —"

He had sunk to a half-sitting position again when there was a knock on the hatch.

"Were you expecting company?" Dee asked with a half smile.

"Uh — no, not really." Feeling more than a little confused, Lee hurried across the room. "Might be my father wanting to go over last-minute details, but usually _he'd_ ask _me_ to go see him, not the other way around. So —"

He broke off abruptly as the hatch came open.

Standing in the corridor was a civilian, a woman, holding a little girl who looked to be about Will's age. The pair's blonde hair and blue eyes matched perfectly — they had to be mother and daughter — and the girl was clutching a rag doll in her fat little hands.

"Hi!" she said, beaming a big grin.

"Um … hi," said Lee, who was quite sure he had never laid eyes on either person in his life. "May I help you?"

He'd directed the question at the woman, who seemed just as puzzled by him, but it was again the toddler who answered. "Where Kara?" she asked.

This finally seemed to jar the woman out of her stupor. "I — I'm sorry," she blurted, quickly looking away. "We must have the wrong quarters, I didn't mean to bother you."

"Please, don't worry about it," Lee told her, hoping to put them both at ease. "Kara's my wife. Lee Adama."

"Oh!" The woman looked up again, shifting her daughter to shake his proffered hand. "I'm Julia, Julia Brynne. Kacey's mom? I'm sure Kara must have told you all about us."

It was Lee's turn to feel embarrassed. "She — she hasn't, actually. It's … it's been kind of rough for her lately, adjusting to life after the exodus."

Julia nodded understanding. "We were on New Caprica when the Cylons came. Kara rescued my daughter after they kidnapped her. I was so sure I'd never see Kacey again, and then … she was right there. Your wife was holding her, outside one of those — Raptors, is that what you call them? I still don't know where Kara found her, or how they managed to get away."

"Neither do I, to tell you the truth."

"Anyway …" Julia shifted awkwardly again; she seemed to have reached a point where she was ready to discuss her presence outside his quarters. "Is Kara here? Kacey's been asking to see her all week, haven't you, honey?"

"Wanna hug!" Kacey nodded, the same big grin lighting her eyes.

"Kara gives the best hugs, doesn't she?" Lee smiled conspiratorially at the little girl. "She's napping with our son right now, but I'll definitely let her know you stopped by. Maybe we can set up a time to meet in the next few days."

 _And maybe by then I'll have heard the story behind Kara rescuing a kid on New Caprica_ , he added mentally.

Kacey was now frowning. "Will?" she asked, and when Lee nodded, the toddler immediately blurted, "He dead!"

Lee arched an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"Kacey told me that Kara said she had a little boy who died in the Cylon invasion," Julia explained, looking abashed. "I thought … I thought that might have been why she rescued my daughter, because she didn't want another child to suffer like her son did."

"Will is alive," Lee heard himself saying, but his mind was barely on the conversation anymore.

 _Kara thought Will had died?_

Why would she think that? What would convince her?

He didn't think it was the kind of thing a little kid would invent. Kacey might have an active imagination, but there was no reason for her to say something so outrageous — and untrue — unless she'd been told so by an adult who believed it. Julia couldn't have known about Will. So that meant that Kara had, at some past point, confided in Kacey that Will was dead.

 _Four months. She went four months thinking she'd never see him again._

Kara wouldn't ever confide in another person, even a kid, without starting to accept the loss as truth.

 _Frak me._

As he made plans with Julia and Kacey to meet, as he bid them goodbye and watched them walk down the corridor hand-in-hand, Lee couldn't help but wonder, again, what other secrets his wife might be hiding. How much else was she withholding, out of concern for his sanity, or their own?

"Who was that?" Dee asked, coming to stand beside him when he'd shut the hatch.

"You know what?" Lee sighed, raked tired fingers through his hair. "I haven't the faintest idea."

Whatever else Kara concealed, he knew, it couldn't stay that way forever. It was going to come out in the open.

Tomorrow.


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter (and by extension, this fic) is not compliant with the recent _Caprica_ series finale. That's quite deliberate: firstly because many folks haven't seen said finale, and secondly because I didn't especially feel like messing up my (rather extensive) backstory and plans in order to precisely match canon. ;) So if you've seen the finale, just consider those elements part of this AU. :)

Sleep that night proved elusive once again. Oh, she could get there with Lee holding onto her, a buffer against the darkness, and Will more often than not curled against her other side. It was _staying_ there that was the problem. The baby would kick her and she’d wake up. Or she would have to pee for the five hundredth time and wake up. Or her son might have a nightmare and wake her up. However it happened, she’d inevitably find herself awake, exhausted but feeling like there were ants crawling behind her eyeballs. It was like being on stims, back when the Cylons were coming every thirty-three minutes, though also worse somehow.

The first few nights, Lee had stayed up with her, some kind of twisted guilt-driven solidarity, but she’d eventually told him to knock it off. She was sick of watching him stagger around like a zombie every day, and secretly afraid he’d fall asleep at the controls of his Viper during CAP and fly into the side of _Colonial One_ or something. He joked that it was good preparation for when the baby came, but after a few good glares, Lee took the hint and slept through when he could.

Which was why she felt surprised, watching the bed now, to see him unfurl himself from the covers and pad over to her. Kara kept staring vacantly at the hatch, pretending not to notice his presence until he was practically right beside her.

“Nightmare?” Lee asked.

Kara was again amazed, this time at his boldness. A few furtive glances over the top of Will’s head after he’d woken from a bad dream was usually the closest they came to acknowledging she had them too. Yet another barrier.

She shrugged. “You should be asleep.”

“So should you.” He wasn’t giving any ground tonight.

“Yeah, well, I’m not.” Kara picked at a loose thread on the couch. “Gonna throw me in hack, _sir?_ ”

Lee sank down next to her with a sigh that seemed to deflate his entire body. “No ranks after hours, Kara. You know that.”

“Whatever.”

They lapsed into silence, and she hated that. Four months ago they would never have run out of things to say to each other, and any quiet between them was companionable and gentle rather than full of shit he was afraid to mention and she was afraid he wouldn’t be able to leave alone. She wanted _normalcy_ — but without all the messy crap they’d have to go through to get there.

 _Yeah, right, Thrace. Since when has your life ever been_ that _easy?_

The baby squirmed, quick, darting movements that belied exactly how tight space was getting in there. Something else she couldn’t think about. But maybe it could give her normalcy … for a moment … if Lee would let it.

Kara leaned against the back of the couch, tucking her legs under and allowing one hand to drift over her stomach, not quite a caress, but too deliberate to look accidental. As she’d hoped, the motion caught her husband’s attention.

“Is she kicking?” Lee asked, and his smile was genuinely warm.

She couldn’t quite bring herself to smile in response, but Kara’s lips quirked slightly upward as she moved to place his hand on the swell of her pregnancy. “Kind of. He doesn’t really kick anymore. Just wiggles around and bounces a bit.”

Lee’s grin grew wider as the baby nudged his fingers. “We should probably talk about names, you know. Instead of leaving it to the last minute like we did the first time.”

“What’s wrong with last minute?” Kara smirked. Then, seeing him roll his eyes, she added, “Besides, aren’t we just gonna work it the same way? If it’s another boy, I name him, if it’s a girl, you pick.”

“And how is it fair that you get to choose both our kids’ names?” Lee wanted to know. “Unless you’re thinking of having more.”

She suppressed an involuntary shudder, not realizing until he said it how opposed she felt to the idea. But she couldn’t exactly tell him why without revealing a lot of other crap, too.

Instead, Kara deflected that part of his statement. “Hey, _I_ do all the hard work in this deal,” she reminded him, gesturing to her stomach. “You think it’s frakking _easy_ carrying all the extra weight around, not being able to fly, getting used as a punching bag all night? And let’s not forget how the kid is getting _out_. I deserve _some_ compensation, dammit.”

He laughed. “I guess so. But, okay, if it _is_ a boy, what will you name him? We’ve already done the family thing.”

“I dunno. Sam, maybe,” Kara said. It was the first thought that came into her mind.

“ _Sam?_ ” Lee arched an eyebrow.

“He’s my _friend_.” She resisted the impulse to glare. “Yours, too. I know it would mean a lot to him, especially … especially after what he did on New Caprica. It’d mean a lot to Will, too.”

“True.”

“Well, what about you?” Kara challenged. “If it’s a —” And suddenly she couldn’t say _girl_ , not without thinking of Farms and Cylon eyes and promises. “If you get your way. What name would you pick?”

Lee was tracing slow circles on her abdomen. “I was kind of thinking about Tamara.”

“Who’s Tamara?”

“My father’s older sister,” he replied. His gaze was far away.

“I didn’t know you had an aunt,” Kara said.

“I don’t, not really. She and my grandmother died when he was a kid. He’s never talked about it much, but he has a few old pictures. Zak and I used to … we used to sit on the couch in Dad’s apartment, the one he got after the divorce, and go through albums. Zak always asked who each person was, even if he knew the answer. And when it came to those pictures Dad would just say, ‘Tamara,’ and then find an excuse to be somewhere else.”

She took in the story greedily. It gave her something else to focus on, and Kara couldn’t help enjoying thoughts of Lee and Zak as kids.

“I guess that’d be okay,” she told him, realizing abruptly that he was waiting for her assessment.

“Mind you, I won’t really know until she’s born,” Lee mused. “I have to see what she looks like before I pick for sure.”

Kara snorted. “Oh, yeah? What the hell happened to ‘I don’t want to leave it until the last minute like last time’?”

“Kara, last time we didn’t even discuss it until Will’s head was crowning,” he reminded her.

“Only because you were too damn chicken to wrap _your_ head around the idea of a baby,” she shot back.

“You’re still gonna bug me about that when he’s walking down the aisle at his wedding, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

Lee’s sigh was long-suffering.

“Look, Lee,” Kara said, removing his hand so she could begin the process of hoisting herself to her feet, “tell your kid to stop jumping on my bladder and you can name him Rover for all I care.”

“Rover Adama?” Lee asked with a snort of his own.

“It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Her tone now was a perfect imitation of Laura Roslin.

He laughed, but quietly. “Well, at least we’d know what his callsign would be.”

“Hotdog!” Kara declared, laughing too.

“Already taken.” Lee stood to pull her up. “I was thinking more along the lines of Fido. Or one of those other cutesy dog names.”

“Fleabag.”

“ _Fleabag?_ ”

“Yeah. It fits, if you’re talking dog names.”

“Lords, Kara, I’m sure as hell never letting _you_ name my dog.”

“Good, ’cause you’re not getting one anyway.”

They stood facing each other, Lee holding onto her arms to support her, both smiling, both laughing — on the verge, Kara realized suddenly, of that easy interaction she had hoped for, before the Cylons, before everything else came along and frakked it up. It felt … good. Right in a way little else had since her return.

She sucked in a silent breath, still smiling but now hyper-aware of his fingers on her skin, his bare chest just inches in front of her. Heat pooled in her stomach.

 _Don’t think._

 _Just do it._

It was just the frakking hormones talking — Kara remembered that much from being pregnant with Will — but that did nothing to diminish the sensation as she pressed her lips to Lee’s. He hesitated at first, and she knew she’d caught him off-guard. Kara pulled her hands free, bringing them up to cup his face, stroking his cheeks, and she heard him exhale shakily as he finally opened to her.

“Don’t,” she warned him when they paused for breath, already anticipating his uncertainty.

“Don’t what?”

“Say all the crap you want to say.”

“Kara —”

But she was quicker, and fused their mouths again, nipping and biting at his lips, her tongue seeking entrance. They crashed into contact and Kara savoured the feel of it, warmth and scent and panting breaths beginning to take over. Lee might have been uncertain, but his body sure knew what he wanted. She grinned in victory as she felt him finally matching her efforts.

Lee’s fingers weren’t idle now, and neither were hers. Nails skimmed lightly down his back as he dug under the single gray tank she wore to cup a breast. A jolt of pleasure shot through Kara and she tipped her head back with a gasp, allowing Lee to ghost his lips over her jaw and down to her neck. He sucked at the skin, kissing it soundly, and she forgot about reciprocation for a moment as she pressed his hand harder into her breast. Thankfully he took the hint, pinching her nipple firmly. One more twist and she was gone, the climax rippling through her, unexpected but hardly unwelcome. Kara barely managed to temper her moan.

“Was that — did you —” Lee broke off, looking a little shocked.

“Yeah.” She tried for a self-satisfied smirk, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that she had to pee badly now. “Look, hold that thought, okay? I’ll be back.”

“Why’re we stopping now?” he called after her retreating back.

“Kid. Bladder. Bouncing. Ring any bells?” But Kara was pleased to note the disappointment in his voice; that made it much more likely he’d want to continue.

When she returned, Lee was sitting on the couch again. He _oofed_ slightly as she climbed back on top of him, earning a smack in response, and they both chuckled. But Lee grew serious again too quickly. Even her kiss to his nose wouldn’t deter him this time.

“You’re sure about this?”

Kara ground down, a little forcefully. “Do I _look_ not sure?”

“Kara, all I know is I’ve barely touched you since you got back.” Lee’s hands went to her hips, not to caress, but to restrain. “And that’s been because of what _you_ wanted. I didn’t mind then, and I don’t mind now, but I guess I’m just wondering what’s changed, that’s all.”

“Dunno,” Kara shrugged, not really caring to discuss specifics with him right now. “I’m about to pop, the hormones are driving me frakking nuts, you’re here. Do I _need_ a reason to frak my husband?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighed.

“Then what _did_ you mean? Enlighten me, Lee, I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

“I’m just saying maybe we should wait until —”

“Until _when?_ Until we’ve gone through the interrogation and I’ve poured my heart out to you and had a good cry about all the shit bothering me? Frak, Lee, you _know_ that’s not gonna happen, so give it the hell up.”

Lee drew a deep breath, bringing one hand up to stroke her hair. “I don’t want to hurt you. Okay? Can you understand that much?”

“The doc says I’m fine,” Kara countered. At least those appointments had been good for _something_.

“I wasn’t talking about the baby, Kara.” He let his head tip back, and pulled her close, and she let him. “I … lost you. For four frakking _months_ I didn’t know if you were dead or alive. I tried to hope you were fine. I told Will the same thing. But in the end I didn’t know. And I realized I was angry. _Furious_ , actually. We had a future planned and we knew exactly how we were going to live our lives. I was going to do things the _right_ way instead of … trying to run. And then the Cylons came back and none of it mattered anyway. None of it was worth a damn.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “No guarantees, Lee. You know that.”

“Well, why not?” Lee demanded, though she sensed he wasn’t asking her. “Why do they get to decide that? When did our lives turn into some godsdamned _game_ that they could just frak around with whenever they felt like it?” He huffed out another breath, and held her more tightly, seeming to gather his thoughts. “So I decided that … when, _if_ , you came back, I was going to do everything I could to make sure we got it anyway. That they couldn’t take anything more from us than they already have.”

“Lee —”

“And that means I won’t lose you!” he insisted, his eyes fierce, but glinting. “I won’t drive you away, I won’t hurt you the way I have in the past! If you want out, that’s fine, but —”

“ _Lee._ ”

Kara pressed her hands to both sides of his face, stopping his tirade in midsentence.

“What?”

It was her turn for a deep breath.

“Just because I can’t … express myself about this, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t,” she said softly.

“What do you mean?” Lee laughed a little shakily.

In answer Kara climbed off, seating herself next to him and tugging his head down to rest on her chest. She didn’t say anything more, just stroked his hair gently and prayed she had enough strength for this. Lee was smart. He’d figure it out soon enough.

As in the tent on Kobol, his grief was silent, composed. He didn’t shake or wail or scream. Kara would have been surprised if he had. But she felt him resisting, failing, and then finally, slowly, surrendering. The front of her tanks grew wet. She found one of his hands and squeezed it; his other hand went to her abdomen, clutching it. Kara let him. And envied him.

She had no idea how long they sat there. The baby shifted, restless as usual. Desire still slithered through Kara’s veins, but she ignored it now. An urge rose up within her again to tell him about her promise, to get that out of the way since she’d be spilling her guts tomorrow in any case — but she couldn’t. Gods, he had enough shit to deal with.

“Mama?”

Kara raised herself out of a half-stupor, and turned to see her son standing sleepily in the bedroom doorway, his hair tousled. Will was clutching his bear, and a dilapidated old blanket Dee had given him.

“Hey, baby, what’re you doing up?”

“ _You_ up,” he pointed out, trotting over to the couch.

“’Cause I’m your mama, that’s why.” Kara winked and snickered, but the boy didn’t return the grin as she’d expected him to. Instead he stopped, a quizzical look on his face.

“Daddy sad again?”

She glanced down. Her husband had brightened up a little, certainly nowhere near how he’d been a few minutes earlier, but the evidence of how he felt emotionally was all over Lee’s face. He had made no attempt to disguise it, which was even weirder.

“Yeah, a little bit,” Lee nodded, his voice low and gravelly. “But Mama’s taking care of me. She’s good at that.”

“Mama _back_ ,” Will said, resting his free hand on his mother’s knee as if for emphasis. “We don’t gotta miss her.”

Lee boosted himself to a sitting position and scooped the boy onto the couch, stroking Will’s hair. “But I did miss her. I missed her while she was gone, and sometimes I was afraid she wouldn’t come back. You did, too. Remember how we talked about that?”

The boy pondered this, and Kara watched his face closely, uncertain how much he would understand, hopeful that it would fly over his head, because _she_ sure as hell didn’t want to be the one to explain it. She had no idea why Lee was playing the emotions card — _so_ unlike him — and it was yet one more thing she didn’t feel ready to deal with right now.

After several moments, Will smiled tentatively. “You wanna hug?” he asked, twisting toward Lee.

The latter returned the smile, and opened his arms. “You know what, I’d love one.”

Will immediately wrapped his arms around his father as far as they would go, squeezing tightly. Lee hugged him back and kissed the top of his head, and Kara, watching, was again furious at the prickle of jealousy that surged through her. She should be glad of their bond. She _was_. But —

As if sensing her thoughts, Lee bent forward slightly and whispered into their son’s ear, but loudly enough that she could hear every word. “We should give Mama a hug too, huh?”

“Yeah!” Will nodded vigorously, and held out a hand to his mother.

She slipped into the resultant embrace, cuddling him in what remained of her lap, Lee’s arm securely around her shoulders. Kara told herself firmly to forget the interrogation, to bury the risk that by evening she might not have any of this.

And it worked. Mostly.

Tonight, there was only them.


	71. Chapter 71

At some point in the night they’d moved back to the bed, probably when all three of them were too tired to sit up anymore, and Lee slept later than he’d intended to that morning. So he wasn’t exactly shocked to find himself alone in bed when he did finally drag his eyes open — what surprised him was the voices he heard coming from the living area, through the closed door.

One was unmistakably his son’s, Will chattering excitedly about something. But the other was far deeper than Kara’s should have been, and the cadence of the footsteps walking around was also different. Lee hoped he was wrong, that being half-asleep had caused him to mishear. But no. He opened the door just in time to duck as a pyramid ball whizzed past his head, missing it by bare inches.

“What the — _frak!_ ” Lee blurted as the ball bounced off the opposite wall and rebounded, whacking him in the shin.

“Daddy, you said a bad word!” Will announced.

Lee scooped up the ball, regarding the boy sternly. “Mind telling me where this came from?”

“It’s Unca Sam’s!” Will grinned and pointed at the room’s other occupant.

Sam shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, man. You gotta get the next generation of C-Bucs from somewhere.”

‘Yeah, well, I’d rather practice be held someplace other than my living room, if it’s all the same,” Lee sighed. He flipped the ball back to Sam, who caught it easily. “When we’re at home, we roll the ball on the floor, Will. We don’t throw.”

“No fair …”

Lee ignored this — there was no sense getting into an argument with a two-year-old, especially when said toddler had already picked up Kara’s debating skills — and turned back to Sam. “Look, not that I’m not glad to see you, but do you know where Kara is? Or is there any point in even asking that?”

“I wish I could tell you,” the other man replied, and there was an undercurrent of sympathy in his tone. “She brought Will to me early this morning, said there was something she had to do and could I watch him. Wouldn’t tell me where she was actually going.”

“Of course not, that would be too easy,” Lee muttered. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to tamp down on a rising sense of frustration. “I mean, it’s not like I actually need her this morning or anything.”

Sam crouched on the floor and rolled the ball to Will. “What happens this morning?”

“She’s due to testify about what happened on New Caprica. Just a one-on-one thing, but it’s important.”

“Shit,” Sam said. “I mean, shoot,” he corrected himself, glancing at Will. “You think she got freaked out and ran?”

Lee clenched his fists; the possibility of Kara fleeing to another ship hadn’t even occurred to him, though it should have. “No idea, but I know how to find out.”

A quick call to Dee in CIC assured him that while several Raptors had left _Galactica_ on supply runs to the rest of the fleet, Kara hadn’t been aboard any of them. He paced the room for a while, watching Sam teach Will some basic pyramid moves and pondering the merits of getting together a ship-wide search party. But Lee finally shook his head with another sigh and tugged on his uniform jacket, buttoning the buttons with practiced efficiency as he walked to the hatch.

“Going out to look?” Sam asked, then let out a loud, pretend “ _Whoa!_ ” as Will tackled him.

Lee shook his head. “If Kara doesn’t want to be found, she’ll have made sure no one can find her. She knows the time the testimony is supposed to start. All I can do is be at the appointed place and hope to hell she shows.”

“Well, I’ve got things here, so don’t worry about Will,” Sam assured him. “Good luck, by the way.”

“Thanks, I’ll probably need it,” Lee said ruefully. “Look, I’ll be in conference room eleven-seventeen if you need to reach me. Just pick up the phone and ask to be connected there if there’s a problem.”

“Sure.”

“And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Again. Just … thanks.”

***

He’d expected the conference room to be empty when he arrived, but to Lee’s amazement, it was not. Kara sat on one side of the table, looking for all the worlds like she would rather be just about anywhere else. She was _there_ , though, and that in itself was almost enough to knock him off balance. He knew she’d done it on purpose. If there was one thing a person had to expect from Kara Thrace, it was the _unexpected_.

“Finally, I don’t have all day here,” Kara muttered when she saw him. It was precisely the sort of greeting he’d believed he might deliver to her.

“You knew the time.” Lee set a pad of paper and two pens on the table, and a stack of folders to the right. “I overslept, and I had to make sure Will was cared for.”

She snorted with disinterest and crossed her arms. “I got you a babysitter. I turned up here. I dunno what you’re bitching about.”

He took a deep breath before answering, determined not to start things off on a hostile note. “Kara, look, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Okay? We’ll just do this, and get it over with, and that’ll be it. I promise.”

Another snort. “For you, maybe.”

No point in even responding. She seemed determined to pick some kind of a fight. Instead he walked over to the side of the room, where a tray of water and coffee had been set up. Lee didn’t touch the coffee — it was rotgut anyway — but held up the water pitcher. “Want some?”

“Nope.” But Kara shifted in her seat, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “Frak,” she muttered.

He paused in the act of pouring himself some water. “You okay?”

“ _Fine_.” The chair scraped against the carpeted floor. “I’m gonna hit the head before we start.” And with a thunk of the hatch, Kara was gone. All he could do was hope like hell she’d bother to come back.

Lee settled himself at the table, uncapping his pen and scribbling the date at the top of a lined page. He opened the topmost folder, which contained a list of questions to which the Admiral wanted answers. Lee wasn’t sure how much he’d actually stick to that list — it depended on what Kara said, after all — but he felt it prudent to have at least a basic idea of the information he was supposed to collect.

Doubt stole through him as his eyes moved down the list. _What was your exact location at the time of the Cylon invasion? Who were you with? What were you doing? Describe your activities during the occupation. Were you captured by the Cylons? If so, for what reason? Did they attempt to extract any information? Were you part of the resistance movement on New Caprica? In what ways were you able to successfully disrupt the enemy?_ All sensible questions, all appropriate to a military reading of the situation, but the ordered sheet offered no indication as to how those questions could actually be asked. Particularly if the person who was supposed to testify happened to be your own wife. Lee couldn’t imagine asking them of Kara — not after last night, and not with her attitude this morning. He’d felt they were actually getting somewhere now, finding their way back to the relationship they’d shared before New Caprica. Was he about to frak that up now?

 _Dammit, my father never should have asked me to do this!_

At the same time, though, he couldn’t picture anyone else questioning Kara, not even his father. _Especially_ not his father. He worried that what he’d said to her outside the Circle’s room was true: that if she refused to testify now, someone would make her do it later anyway, and they might not be nearly as understanding or willing to bend the rules for her sake. It was quite possible that an uncaring questioner would destroy her, much as she wouldn’t want to admit that. So it had to be him, one way or another.

Didn’t mean he had to _like_ it.

Presently the hatch opened and shut again, and Lee was relieved to recognize Kara’s footsteps padding across the carpet. He glanced up, an easy smile starting to slip onto his face.

It vanished when he saw her.

Kara’s entire demeanor had changed. He could tell that without her speaking a word. She was pale, her face downcast, eyes troubled. Something — or someone? — had unnerved her. Was it just the interrogation? The thought that she could no longer hide, that there wasn’t any way out? Or an entirely different problem?

His gaze immediately found her abdomen.

“Kara —” he began.

“Don’t,” she snapped, but her voice had lost the hard edge of ice. “Just start. We’ll get this the frak over with. Like you said.”

Lee was tempted to probe deeper, to find out what was really the matter. Her eyes warned him away, though, and he was smart enough to realize that he might never get anything out of her if _he_ was the one responsible for picking a fight.

“Right,” he said, awkwardly. “Well, um — I have a list here, but I don’t think I’ll stick to it very much. I figured I’d start out by establishing a timeline of events, beginning with the invasion and … working forward. We should be able to get through most of the crucial stuff, and anything else probably wasn’t that important anyway. And if … if there’re things you absolutely don’t want on the record, just tell me, and I’ll strike them from my final report. Okay?”

“Just start,” Kara replied. She shifted again.

Lee took a deep breath, and readied his pen.

“Tell me about being on the planet that day. I remember you and Will were going to see Sam.”

“Yeah.” She swallowed, clasped her hands in front of her on the table, then dropped them back to her lap like she wasn’t sure what to do with them. “We found him on the pyramid court, they’d built one down there. I was so pissed at him ’cause he was playing even though he was sick. Cottle said pneumonia later. We dragged him back to his tent and the doc was there, and I joked about getting a retainer for bringing back his patients.”

“You’d be good at that,” Lee smiled, hoping to put her a little more at ease.

To his amazement, she tentatively returned the smile. “Yeah, but I asked for my retainer in cigars. Bastard could already see you’d knocked me up again, so he said no. I didn’t mean it for right _then_.” Kara rolled her eyes.

He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand but at the same time knowing he had to. “So Cottle told you it was pneumonia, and then left?”

“He’d run out of antibiotics. Couldn’t do frak-all. I said I’d call you and ask you to release some of the pilots’ stores, but he said not to even bother. Even if you did give us the meds there were other people they’d have to go to first, so Sam wouldn’t get any anyway.”

Lee sighed. It was true, whether or not he admitted it. But he hated the idea that Kara had been put in that position. “What did you do after that?”

She exhaled a gusty sigh. “Why the hell is that important?”

“Would you rather I ask where you were when the Cylons landed?”

“Not particularly.”

“You have to pick one, Kara,” Lee said gently. “I’m sorry.”

Kara ducked her head. Some of her hair fell over her eyes, and he had a sudden sense that he’d stumbled onto one of those sensitive topics, the ones she always went quiet about if you asked.

He reached across the table, intending to grasp one of her hands, but she jerked it away. “We just need a complete picture of —”

“In Cally and Galen’s tent,” she interrupted loudly. “Okay? Sam needed warmer clothes and I just went over there for five frakking _seconds_ to see if they had any he could borrow. And —”

“And?” Lee prompted.

They sat in silence for several seconds, Kara staring into her lap, Lee looking at her.

“Will was still in Sam’s tent.” Her voice was soft, her arms now clasped around her stomach like she was holding herself together. “He wanted to stay there … stay there and help. I thought, fine, sure, it’s not like he’s gonna be _alone_ or something … Sam was with him. And I’d be _right back_.”

“Kara, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. You know that.” He wished he could touch her, reach her.

She glared at him, her eyes blazing. “That’s when the Cylons came.”

Lee swallowed hard, remembering her tirade during the knife incident, recalling Kacey’s words, pieces continuing to fall together. “But how could you possibly have _known_ , dammit? There’s no way. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I shouldn’t have left him, Lee!” Kara snapped furiously. “He wasn’t even two! You do not leave such a young kid with a guy who’s coughing his frakking guts out every time he sits up!”

Her hands were on the table again, fingers twisting and worrying at her thumb ring, but this time she let Lee take them in both of his. He stroked softly, then squeezed.

“Kara, listen to me. Are you listening?”

Sullenly she nodded.

“ _I_ don’t blame you for any of that. Okay? Not for leaving him with Sam and not for anything else you might have done down there to keep our family safe. You had no idea the Cylons were going to come back. _I_ had no idea they were coming back. Should I blame myself for jumping away from the planet, even if it was the only choice I could have made?”

Kara shrugged.

“I don’t think so,” Lee continued. “I felt awful about it at first, but there was no alternative. And I can’t go back into the past and change anything. Neither can you. It’s not your fault, and I refuse to blame you for it.”

She muttered something under her breath, something that sounded like _for how frakking long_. He couldn’t be sure, though.

Lee decided not to care. “For as long as it takes.”

Kara said nothing for several more moments. When she looked up again he thought he might finally have gotten through to her, but instead the emotionless mask had clamped back over her features. “Can we take a break? I’m going to the head again.”

He resisted the urge to sigh once more, instead rising with her. “Fine. Whatever.”

She arched an eyebrow as he followed her to the door, making sure it swung properly shut to lock after them. “Lee, I already told you, I don’t need a frakking babysitter!”

“And what makes you think that’s why I’m coming with you?” This time Lee couldn’t help the testiness that crept into his tone. “I just drank a full glass of water. Okay?”

Kara clenched her fists and didn’t reply.

In the head, Lee took care of business quickly and leaned against the sinks to wait for her, thinking. They were about to enter the toughest phase of the interrogation — the phase where he’d ask her exactly what happened during her captivity — and he felt woefully unprepared. Which was probably nothing compared to how _she_ felt. He had no idea how to make it any easier for her, either, other than continuing to show as much compassion as possible, as she’d done for him last night.

But it depended on Kara, too. It depended on her willingness to give him the information his superiors were looking for. He hated having to collect it, hated that his father was forcing this under the guise of military protocol. No matter how many times Lee told himself that this was for the best, that he’d rather question her himself than have somebody else badger her for answers … that didn’t change the fact that he still had to _do_ it. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength. He hadn’t said anything to Kara about Kacey’s abortive visit yesterday, not wanting to upset her, but now Lee wondered if that was a mistake.

He stretched, rolling his shoulders with a sigh and checking his watch. “You okay?” Lee called after several more moments.

A soft scuffle issued from her stall. Then:

“You are _actually_ asking me that?”

Lee bit back a sarcastic retort. “Yeah, I actually am.”

“Frak off,” Kara muttered, but she sounded distracted.

He inched closer to the stall. Gave her another minute.

“Need any help?” Lee asked at a sharp intake of breath from inside.

“ _No_.”

Her voice was far less assured, but he knew better than to press. Instead he backed away as the lock clicked and Kara emerged. Lee couldn’t help opening his mouth to say something about the look on her face, but she again stopped him with a glare.

“ _Don’t_. Okay? Just don’t.”

“Kara, if something’s wrong —”

“I just want to get back and get this over with.” Kara glanced at him over her shoulder with her hand on the door handle. “Are you coming or not?”

It was only later, after they were back in the conference room, that he realized he’d never heard the toilet flush.

***

“So after you and Chief and Cally realized what was going on, what did you do then?”

Kara stared at him, mechanically, across the table. Her tone when she replied was flat and dispassionate. “I wanted to get back to Will. The chrome jobs hadn’t started going in the tents yet so I figured I had time. I slipped into the crowd and nobody noticed. People were freaking the hell out, screaming, running everywhere. Total frakking chaos.”

“Were the Cylons trying to chase them or capture them?”

“Nah. They knew they had the city already. The whole marching and staring thing, that was just for show. Just to freak ’em out. And it worked.”

Lee glanced down, on the pretense of scribbling something on his notepad, but he was really just steeling himself to ask the next question. “What about skinjobs? Did you see any?”

“No.” Her tongue darted out to lick at her lips. “Not until I was about halfway back to Sam’s tent.”

He took a breath. “And then …?”

“He found me.”

Lee stuffed his hands under the table so she wouldn’t see them tighten involuntarily. “Look, we don’t have to talk about —”

Kara spoke over him, almost like she was daring him to stop her. “He came up behind me, called me by name. He’d known I’d go back to the tent, so he was waiting for me. Frakker wanted me to go with him; I said no. He was faster than I was. Overtook me in a few seconds. He said I shouldn’t try to fight back or …” At this she faltered, very slightly, for a moment. “Or he’d hurt the baby. He knew. He could see. And he had a knife.” It was her turn for a long, deep breath. “Next thing I remember is waking up in that godsdamned dollhouse with a pounding headache and a pretty good idea how I’d gotten there.”

Lee’s fingers worked furiously around his pen, crushing it almost to breaking point as he fought down the waves of rage threatening to consume him. Now wasn’t the time for that.

“Well?” she said, and her voice was almost taunting now. “Don’t you want to hear the rest?”

Nausea twisted in his gut, but Lee forced himself to look up at her now. Her eyes glinted with the same maniacal energy as when she’d come after him with the knife, though the aura of hatred towards Leoben was absent. Instead she looked defiant — terrified, but defiant — and like she was daring him to stop her. He reminded himself that this wasn’t about him, or his reactions. It was about her.

“Kara —” he started, gently.

“Don’t you dare chicken out,” she warned, fist coming to rest on the table. “You got me in here, dammit.”

“I’m not,” Lee said simply, and, abandoning his notes, he came around the end of the table and pulled out the chair next to her. They sat face to face, he grasping her other hand, looking her in the eye. “Tell me. Tell me what happened after you woke up.”

Her fingers flexed against his, but she didn’t pull away.

“He had me in this … apartment, in the detention centre.” Now Kara’s voice was barely audible. “Kind of like my old place on Caprica. Leoben started … babbling crazy shit, about some destiny I’m supposed to have and how he was going to help me find it. I told him if he really cared about me he’d let me go. I knew I should stop him figuring out about you and Will, but …”

“He knew already?”

“Yeah.”

“The population records on _Colonial One_?” Lee guessed, and Kara nodded. He massaged her thumb around the cool metal of her ring. “Look, there was nothing you could’ve done. The Cylons would have found out one way or another.”

She nodded again, mutely. All her bravado seemed to vanish suddenly, like the air being let out of a balloon. Kara cleared her throat, awkwardly.

“Can we wrap this up soon?” she asked in that same small voice. So different from her usual way of being.

“We can take another break, if you want,” offered Lee, conciliatory. “A half hour here and there isn’t going to make any difference. I’m sure the admiral doesn’t expect all the information to be collected in one session.”

Kara tensed, and his level of worry spiked accordingly. Her teeth sunk deeply into her bottom lip.

“Or we can call it a day entirely,” he said quickly. _Just say something. Tell me either way. Don’t hide, dammit._

“I think we’ll have to,” Kara gritted out.

“Okay. Okay.” Still keeping hold of her hand, Lee rose swiftly and flipped his notepad and folders closed. Truthfully, he was just as glad. “You’ll never guess what Sam and Will were doing when I left,” he told her, trying in vain to return to a lighter topic. “Well, you’ll see it when we get back to quarters —”

“I think we should go to sickbay instead.”

“What?” Lee nearly dropped his pen. “Why?”

Finally she faced him, tugging her hand away to cross her arms.

“Because my frakking water broke half an hour ago, dammit. This kid is coming now whether we want it to or not.”


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Material from the series _Caprica_ used here is mainly based on canon. I don't know much Old Tauron, nor do I know if such a language actually existed, but the overall name etymology in my own language is correct. (I realize this note makes no sense now, but it will once you've read the chapter.)

_She’d had a plan._

 _Refusing to sleep nights in the dollhouse Leoben referred to as an apartment had given her plenty of time to come up with one. To turn over ideas in her mind and discard them as unworkable. To incorporate others into her strategy. To figure out what junk she’d need. Out-of-the-box thinking was an especially useful skill._

 _Kara would try to hold out in the dollhouse as long as possible. She’d hide from him as much as she could when it happened. Her mother had taught her, indirectly, how to camouflage pain. She knew to act normally even through the worst of it, how to shove the pain into a separate compartment in her brain and ignore it._

 _It wouldn’t be easy. Labour pain, she remembered from her first delivery, was some of the worst shit you could go through, right up there with broken knees and crushed fingers — and Kara had once thought that nothing could be worse than those two injuries. She knew better now. And it would be a challenge. But the alternative was sickening: having the baby with Simon and his toaster pals putting their greasy hands all over her._

 _Of course, odds were high that she’d eventually have to submit to them. Even if Kara managed to make it through labour and delivery on her own, Leoben would quickly figure out what had happened. (She decided to hold in reserve the idea of killing him as soon as she realized the baby was coming, which, she figured, would give her at least six or seven hours to get the kid out in peace.) And he’d probably bring Simon in anyway, at which point the next phase of Kara’s plan would come into play._

 _It was impossible not to think of that plan now. Impossible not to remember what had almost been. What still might be if the gods felt vindictive enough to punish her._

 _It wasn’t supposed to be now. Kara needed more time._

 _But there was none._

***

The birth was not going well. Lee hadn’t been present at many deliveries, but he knew that much. The atmosphere at Will’s birth was … if not casual and relaxed, then at least routine. Or had Lee just been oblivious because he was so scared out of his mind? No, he decided, not one but four medics plus Cottle monitoring Kara wasn’t exactly usual. Nor was the wide band wrapped around her middle and connected to a machine that monitored the baby’s heartbeat.

Nor was the fact that they were ten hours in — and counting.

He’d called Sam and then his father to let them know what was happening when he and Kara first reached sickbay, and Bill had promised to take Will as soon as the Admiral’s shift in CIC was finished. As Will’s bedtime drew closer, Lee began to worry. The boy had never spent the night without at least one of his parents present, and had refused to be separated from Lee when it was time for bed for four months now. He suspected that neither he nor his son would be getting much sleep that night; Bill might have been good at grand gestures when it came to fatherhood, but the elder Adama was ill-equipped for the little details.

Part of Lee wanted to phone his quarters and make sure everything was okay, but he couldn’t leave Kara. Not, oddly enough, because she was threatening him, but because she _wasn’t_. He found it profoundly unsettling.

She’d spent most of the labour so far on her side, gritting her teeth, occasionally squeezing her eyes shut, and staring into space. The only time she had shown even a flicker of emotion was directly after she told him they needed to get to sickbay, and even then, that emotion had been erased almost as soon as it appeared. Now it was like her mind was somewhere else entirely. It reminded him again of the knife incident, and he didn’t like it.

Lee wanted to get up and pace, but knew that would look ridiculous. So he settled for shifting in his chair every so often, crossing and uncrossing his legs and arms.

“Stop being such a frakking cliché, Lee,” Kara mumbled without looking at him.

“Huh?”

“You’re nervous. You’re freaking the hell out. Quit it.”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and resisting the urge to snipe back at her. A fight was still the last thing he wanted, especially at this moment.

Instead Lee changed the subject entirely. “I wonder how Dad’s doing with Will.”

“He’ll learn,” she shrugged, and he wasn’t sure if she was talking about his father or their son.

“I know, it’s just that usually he won’t go to bed for anyone except you or —”

“I didn’t time this on purpose, dammit!” Kara blurted out, then tensed; another contraction was climbing towards its peak.

Lee rose swiftly, draping an arm around her shoulders and offering his hand for her to squeeze. “No one is saying that. All right? No one. And I’ll kick the ass of anyone who tries.”

She gulped a breath and then another, surprising him by leaning against his chest. “Kick their ass? What the hell are you trying to do, turn into me?”

But it was said with affection, and it made him smile. The old Kara was still in there somewhere.

The monitoring machine next to the bed suddenly let out a loud beep, making them both jump. “The frak was that?” Kara demanded, glaring at it as though it had personally offended her.

“I don’t know … maybe you’re ready?” Lee suggested. “Are the contractions getting any stronger?”

“Hell if I know,” she growled. “They’ve all been pretty much the same since —”

Her voice trailed off, and she paled. Lee followed his wife’s gaze and saw Ishay bustling into the cubicle with a tray of equipment.

He swallowed as Kara’s short nails bit into his arm. “What’s going on?”

“Cottle wants a line in her as soon as possible,” the medic explained, then turned to Kara. “Captain, the doctor feels you’re not dilating quite quickly enough and —”

“And just what the hell am I supposed to do about _that?_ ” Kara demanded, her eyes flashing.

“Absolutely nothing,” Ishay replied patiently. “But it’s been hours now, and you’re not progressing. Unfortunately the baby isn’t handling the contractions as well as we’d like, so we want to prepare now in case you do need a surgical delivery.”

“Wait a minute.” It was Lee’s turn to speak up. “What do you mean, the baby isn’t handling the contractions? Isn’t it all supposed to be … I don’t know, _natural?_ ”

“There’s nothing frakking _natural_ about this!” barked Kara.

“In theory, of course it is.” Ishay looked up in the midst of swabbing her patient’s arm. “But in reality, Major, your son or daughter’s heart rate is dropping every time there’s a new contraction. As the contractions have gotten stronger, the drops have grown sharper. We want to make sure that if we need to — only _if_ — we can get the baby out in a minute or less. That’s all.”

Lee wouldn’t exactly have called that reassuring, but before he could respond, Cottle’s gruff voice growled behind him, “Major, you’ve got a visitor.”

“What?” Lee whirled.

“Admiral’s in the waiting room,” came the answer. “Wants to see you.”

 _Great timing_ , Lee thought, but he wasn’t exactly surprised; his father was known for that. He sighed and turned back to Kara, curled on the bed again. “Look, I don’t have to —”

“It’s fine,” she said with a sigh, not even wincing as the intravenous needle slid into her flesh. “Just go. He probably has Junior with him.”

“But you —”

“Will be fine for five seconds,” Kara cut him off. “Go. Really.”

“I’ll be right back,” promised Lee, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead and squeezing her hand. “Promise.”

***

His father did indeed have Will slung over his shoulder, and the boy looked up sleepily as Lee entered. “Daddy?” the toddler asked, reaching out tentative arms.

“Hey, buddy.” Lee hoisted his son to his hip. “You should be in bed, it’s … gods, what time _is_ it?”

“Oh-one-fifteen,” Bill supplied helpfully, which made Lee feel suddenly exhausted.

“I not sleepy!” Will declared.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I used to tell Grandpa when I was your age,” Lee snickered. “Thanks, by the way,” he added to Bill, resisting the urge to inquire as to why they’d suddenly turned up in the waiting room. “For taking him, I mean. We weren’t exactly planning on this for the interrogation day.”

“It’s fine, Lee.” Mercifully, Bill didn’t ask about what had actually gone on in the interrogation. “How’s Kara doing?”

“Cranky. Pissed. Probably mostly at me.” The two men shared a knowing look. “The labour’s going more slowly than Cottle wants, so he’s talking about maybe doing a surgical delivery. I hope that won’t be necessary, though.”

Bill nodded, satisfied, but his namesake wasn’t content with just listening. Will took hold of Lee’s chin in one chubby hand and turned his father’s head until he could be sure he had his full attention. “Daddy?” the toddler asked, for good measure.

Lee, immobilized as he was, couldn’t do much more than reply, “What is it, buddy?”

“Where’s Mama?” Will said, his features suddenly etched with concern.

“She’s having the baby,” Lee explained with a kiss to his son’s forehead. “Remember how we told you Mama would go see the doctor and he’d help your baby brother get born?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, it’s time. And that means you’ll be able to meet your brother, really soon. Won’t that be fun?”

Will pondered this for a moment, apparently unsure whether meeting the baby would fit his own personal definition of “fun.” Then he yawned, frowned, and wrapped his arms around Lee. “Want Mama,” he mumbled insistently into his father’s shoulder.

“I know.” Lee massaged the toddler’s back and held in a sigh. In a way, it wasn’t fair that this additional separation should come so soon after Kara’s extended stay on New Caprica, but there was little that either of them could do about it. He felt torn, wanting to be with both Kara and Will at the same time, knowing that was impossible. Unexpectedly, he found himself wondering if his own father had faced the same dilemma when Zak was born.

Before Lee could ask, though, Bill gestured to the doorway of the small waiting room, where Ishay had just materialized.

“Major, I’m sorry,” she said, and she did indeed look apologetic. “We need you. Right now.”

Alarm prickled suddenly in his stomach. With one last hug, Lee handed Will back to his grandfather and headed after the medic, barely hearing Bill’s good luck wishes.

“What’s going on?” Lee asked nervously.

Ishay was walking briskly toward a different part of sickbay, and she neither paused nor slowed while answering his question. “Cottle’s prepping to operate. I’m afraid we can’t wait any longer.”

“But — _what?_ ” he blurted, completely wrongfooted by this news. “Why? I thought you said that was just a last resort!” Lee knew his voice was rapidly climbing octaves, but he didn’t care.

“Major, your wife began to bleed a few minutes ago.” Ishay paused outside a heavy metal door with a frosted window and turned to grab two gowns off the nearby hook, her face grave. “We’re not exactly sure why and we can’t take the risk of waiting or testing to find out. We have to get the baby out now.”

“But —”

“Here, put these on.” The medic handed him a gown, cap and gloves.

Lee’s mind whirled as he tugged on the extra garments. How the hell could things possibly have gone so wrong, and so _fast?_ He’d just been talking to Kara, for gods’ sake! And she was _fine_ then, if a little grouchy. Now they were all but acting like her life was threatened. He sucked in a breath and didn’t bother to answer when Ishay asked him if he was ready; instead he pushed past her through the door.

The room was a small operating theatre, with bright lights overhead and a sterile, antiseptic smell. An army of goosebumps speckled his flesh; it was at least two or three degrees colder in here than the rest of sickbay. A small isolette stood waiting in a corner, but his attention was drawn to the main table where his wife lay, her eyes slipping open and closed.

Lee hurried to the head of the table, opposite Cottle and three other medics, who were working busily behind a cloth draped across Kara’s midsection. “Hey,” he said softly, crouching next to her, unsure how heavily she’d been sedated. “Kara. Hey. Look at me.”

“If you’ve got stuff to say, say it now,” Cottle warned. “We’re gonna be knocking her out in a minute.”

Lee sucked in a breath and watched, waiting for what seemed an age until Kara’s gaze swiveled slowly towards him. She tried to raise her hand to reach for him, but made it only halfway before her arm flopped uselessly back to the bed. Undaunted, he grasped her fingers and pressed them to his cheek, receiving a small smile in return.

“Lee,” she mumbled, her voice thick, and he was suddenly vividly reminded of his own attempts to speak under the influence of morpha when he’d been shot.

“You’re okay.” Lee kissed her fingers through the mask on his face. “You’re gonna be fine. So’s the baby. I know it.”

“They said …” Kara’s eyes slid shut again. For a moment he was afraid she’d already fallen asleep, but then she continued. “They said … rupture, maybe … dunno what the hell’s happening.”

“Rupture?” He looked sharply at Cottle, but the latter was too busy to acknowledge him now. “Well, that doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, they’ll fix it. They _will_.”

“Mmm.” It was her turn for a deep breath. “Lee?”

Lee kissed her fingers again. “Hold on. Just hold on.”

“ _Lee_.” Kara’s tone was sharper now.

“What?” He bent closer.

“Don’t let them …” Her eyes focused again, this time on the medic approaching with an oxygen mask. “Just make sure … when the baby comes …”

“We need to put this on now,” the medic said apologetically.

“I’ll be right here,” Lee promised, and pressed a kiss to his wife’s forehead, soft yet firm at the same time. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“No —” Kara’s features seemed full of some inexpressible fear. “Don’t let them take her. When she’s born. Don’t let them take the baby.”

A dozen possible responses flashed through his mind — telling her not to worry, saying how much he loved her, wondering again exactly what was happening — but he knew he couldn’t use any of them.

Instead, Lee stroked her hair, and said as firmly as he could, “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

He could tell by her expression that it had been the right answer.

Kara smiled, faintly, as the mask was placed over her mouth and nose.

***

 _She’d said what she needed to say. She’d told him._

 _So why the frak did she feel so nervous?_

 _Probably ’cause she wasn’t there. She wanted to be. It should’ve been like when Will was born, with Lee pale and freaked and her bitching him out in every way she could think of for doing this to her. That was the fun part. Not to mention squeezing the life out of his hand and watching him wince. But something had gone wrong, somehow there’d been a complication — well, she didn’t have to be a genius to figure it out; that searing pain with the strongest contraction yet was definitely not normal — and now she was here, floating in this weird ether._

 _“Kara?”_

 _The voice was indistinct, but familiar._

 _Lee’s?_

 _No._

 _She forced her eyes open._

 _And met with a nightmare._

He _was back._

 _More likely, she’d never left._

No, _she told herself firmly._ No. Not real. Not happening. This is a dream. This is a ridiculous, frakked-up dream and in a minute you’re gonna wake up and —

 _“Kara?” he asked._

 _“She may not recognize you yet,” cautioned a second voice. “She’ll still be groggy from the anesthetic.”_

 _“She knows me,” said Leoben, calm in every inch of him. “You pulled the breathing tube? She can speak?”_

 _“Of course. Whether she chooses to is another matter.”_

 _Immediately Kara clamped her lips shut, almost biting through her tongue. If speech was the latest weapon in this crazy-ass war, she wouldn’t cede it to him._

 _He seemed unconcerned. “You must be wondering what happened, Kara.”_

 _She glared, impassively._

 _“You are, even if you don’t say it. We found you on the floor. A knife next to you, blood everywhere. Evidently you’d passed out. I thought you had died already.” A small smile crept over his face. “But God chose to spare you. He spared you, and He spared your child.”_

 _Involuntarily her hands flew to her abdomen, though the truth was already stealing into her mind like a fever. The baby was gone, her womb empty._

Where the hell did you take her? Where is she?

 _Though Kara didn’t speak the words, Leoben acted as if she had, and gestured to someone outside her field of vision. Simon suddenly appeared on the other side of her bed, close enough to see, but too far to grab or touch. In his arms he held a newborn infant._

 _Shock gutpunched her._

 _None of her plans had accounted for this._

 _She hadn’t figured out what to do if she was unconscious. If they got the baby first._

Stupid. Frakking stupid moron!

 _“She’s perfect, Starbuck,” Simon said, and smiled. To Kara it looked like a baring of teeth._

 _The baby whimpered, anxious, able to sense her mother but not reach her._

 _Kara tried to tell herself to relax, tried to force herself to think, but seeing her daughter in the Cylon’s arms had spun her brain out of its orbit. She knew she was still too weak to move, and hated herself for that._

 _“Let — me — see — her.” Her voice was low, rusty from disuse, the words like bullets._

 _Leoben shook his head. “That was never the plan, Kara. You must know this.”_

 _“You said you weren’t going to kill her!” Kara shouted, and her daughter whimpered more loudly._

Why the hell did I trust you?

 _“Your destinies lie along separate paths,” Leoben began, then seemed to reconsider. He clasped his hands, almost as if praying. “Kara, you cannot possibly realize this child’s importance, nor can it be understated. She will be the culmination of God’s plan. And if the human race will not do its part to bring that plan to fruition, the Cylon must intervene.”_

 _“She is my_ child!”

 _Lee’s, too. Where the hell was he?_

 _“Biologically, perhaps,” the Cylon agreed. “But we cannot leave her with you.”_

 _“And why the frak not?”_

 _Mistake. She shouldn’t get into a yelling match with these bastards. But this was her_ daughter. _If Kara wouldn’t fight for her, who could?_

 _Leoben’s lips curved. “I know your plan.”_

 _Her blood went cold._

 _“Plan?”_

 _The toaster’s smile widened, with the air of someone laying down full colours on the triad table. “Why be so concerned about our intentions, Kara, when your own are less than honourable?”_

 _The baby’s fussing grew louder._

 _“I’m trying to_ protect _her,” Kara hissed._

 _“As are we. Our definitions simply happen to be different. You would take the life of your own child —”_

 _“Because I_ love _her!”_

 _“You would take the life of your own child,” Leoben went on relentlessly, “to spare her from some perceived wrong you seem bent on believing that we will commit. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. We wish only to help her.”_

 _“Like you helped the rest of humanity?” she spat. “Like you helped the people on the Twelve Colonies by nuking ’em to death?”_

 _The toaster narrowed his eyes. “Unlike humanity, the Cylons have the capacity to learn from their mistakes. The same cannot be said of you.”_

 _Kara scowled, having no desire to debate philosophy with this bastard. Instead she held out her arms. “My daughter belongs with_ me _, godsdammit.”_

 _“Your personal history would suggest otherwise.”_

 _She narrowed her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”_

 _“I’m afraid that under the circumstances, we simply can’t take the chance that this child’s mother will break her fingers and call it a just punishment,” Leoben replied smoothly. “Neither can we gamble that she may choose her idea of mercy, and end the girl’s life. This child’s destiny requires something else.”_

 _“Like_ what? _” Kara bellowed, fury and terror warring for supremacy within her. “Like being thrown in a breeding farm? Like being hooked up to a machine?”_

 _Leoben regarded her coldly for almost a full minute. Then he turned away._

 _“Four, take the baby to the facility we established.”_

 _“As you wish,” Simon answered._

 _Kara found she no longer cared about the Cylons’ assaults on her psyche._

 _She didn’t give a shit if Leoben knew he had provoked her._

 _As Simon padded toward the door, as his shoes scuffed the carpet, only two sounds could be heard._

 _One was the baby, whose fussing had degenerated into full wailing._

 _The other was Kara._

 _Screaming her daughter’s name, over and over and over._

***

“Pulse and blood pressure steady?”

“Within acceptable norms.”

“Oxygen sats —”

“Godsdammit, I don’t have time for that crap! You keep throwing stats at each other; I’m cutting.”

In any other circumstance, Lee would have smiled over Cottle’s interruption. It so perfectly befitted the crusty old doctor. But he didn’t now. Not with Kara flat on her back on the surgical table, unconscious for an event in which by all rights she should have actively participated. Not when her life and the life of their unborn child hung in the balance.

The phalanx of medics surrounding Kara murmured nervously, but made no further comment as Cottle worked behind the small screen. Lee couldn’t see what he was doing, and part of him felt glad. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing what was happening, in addition to hearing it.

“What d’you reckon?” Ishay asked from her position beside Cottle. “Rupture?”

“Either that or an abruption. Are we ready?”

“We are.”

Lee gripped Kara’s hand harder — he hadn’t relinquished it since entering the operating theater — and sucked in a breath. She lay as still as ever, her chest slowly rising and falling.

 _She’s almost here, Kara. She’s gonna be beautiful. I know it._

There was a slick sucking sound, and then flesh sliding on flesh. Then … nothing.

“Suction,” Cottle ordered sharply.

“No spontaneous breath motions,” Ishay muttered, and then more softly, “Shit.”

“Getting the frakking gunk out would be a first step,” the doctor snapped. “ _Suction_ it. I’ve gotta patch her up or _she’ll_ stop with the spontaneous breath motions. Godsdammit, this is the Cylon all over again.”

Fear rippled through Lee more forcefully now, surging in intensity. Was Cottle talking about Sharon Agathon? And he certainly remembered what had happened in _that_ particular case. Sharon had survived, but the baby she’d carried … Hera … died.

“Is —” he choked, and a clench invaded his throat so that he couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t get out the words _Is the baby okay?_

No one heard him in any case. They were all too busy, either attending to Kara or to the baby he assumed they’d pulled out.

“Again,” Cottle hissed.

 _She’ll be okay, Kara. I know she will._

He shut his eyes tightly, praying to gods he’d never believed in.

 _Please let her be okay._

Time passed. How much, he did not know; it could have been minutes or hours or days.

 _Kara can’t take another loss right now._

Cottle’s gravelly voice filtered through once more. “ _Again!_ ”

 _And Will … how can I tell my son that …?_

“ _Got it_ ,” Ishay exclaimed suddenly.

“There, you see?” Cottle asked, and some of the tense nervousness had filtered from his tone. “Could _you_ breathe with all that shit in your lungs? No frakking way.”

“Okay. Okay.” The medic sounded frazzled, but relieved. “So I’ll clean up then?”

“Yes. And for gods’ sake tell Dad what’s going on, he looks like he’s about to pass out over there. We don’t need another body to trip over.”

It took Lee several moments to realize Cottle was referring to _him_. And by the time he’d understood that, one of the other medics was wheeling over the baby bed, and Ishay had placed a small wrapped bundle inside it.

“Congratulations, Major,” she said, a small smile creasing her face that belied the tension of the last minutes. “I’d like you to meet your new daughter.”

***

Hours later, Lee sat beside the same bed, in the closet-sized enclave that passed for a nursery. There hadn’t been much call for such a place on _Galactica_ before the Colonies’ fall, since most pregnant officers went on maternity leave long in advance of their babies’ birth. After the apocalypse, a small but fervent need had sprung up, and so a separate area was partitioned. It was small, and barely serviceable, but it was also _something_.

And really, he couldn’t care less about the size right now.

His world was even smaller.

His world squirmed within blankets, and waved little fists, and yawned, her mouth just big enough to admit his finger. She seemed to like sucking on it.

Lee had initially been surprised to discover that he felt no nervousness — at least, not the kind that had so paralyzed him in the days and weeks following Will’s birth. Instead, he knew only relief.

She was okay.

Kara would be, too.

The baby wriggled again, and Lee couldn’t help himself. He reached into the bassinet and stroked her hair, gently, softly, following the dark brown whorls. In this too she was different; her older brother’s hair hadn’t come in until later.

“Hey, little one,” Lee whispered.

“Hey yourself.”

Lee jumped, at first thinking it was the child who had spoken. But no: when he looked up, it was his father’s face staring down at him.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Tough night, huh.” Bill’s hand came to rest gently on his son’s shoulder.

The statement was unnecessary, but probably all Bill could manage under the circumstances, and Lee appreciated it. He nodded. “Yeah, we, uh … some unexpected stuff happened, but the most important thing is … she’s here now.”

A small smile tugged at the Admiral’s lips. “She?”

“Your new granddaughter, Dad.” Lee indicated the bassinet.

For the longest time, Bill simply gazed at the child, eyes bright, taking in every grunt and twitch and sleepy snort. Lee found he couldn’t mind his father’s close scrutiny, since it mirrored what he himself had been doing for the last hour or so. He felt he could sit and stare at his daughter forever, marveling at her small feet, her pursed lips, her tiny fingers curled into fists around the swaddling blanket. She was beautiful. Just like her mother.

And both she and her mother had gone through so much to get to this point, tonight and in the past weeks.

Thinking of that, Lee suddenly needed to touch the baby again. He stroked her clenched fist, and that seemed to jar Bill out of his own reverie.

“She have a name yet?” he asked, tone slightly gruff with emotion.

Lee hesitated. He’d spoken to Kara very briefly in the recovery room, telling her the baby was okay and asking her about his idea for a name, and while she’d agreed, he wasn’t exactly sure how lucid she was, and whether she would actually remember any of their conversation later. He wondered how he’d feel if he named their daughter and then Kara woke up and said she hated it. After all, the name he wanted wasn’t on the list they’d discussed before the birth.

But Bill was waiting, curious. And the name felt … _right_.

“Sophie,” Lee said softly. “In Old Tauron it’s supposed to mean wisdom. And with where we are now … the planet, the exodus, Kara’s recovery … I figure we’ll need all the wisdom we can get.”

“Good one.” Bill nodded appreciatively, something like pride in his gaze now. “How’s Kara doing?”

“Sleeping now, I hope. The doc thinks her womb partly ruptured, which I guess can happen sometimes when labour gets long. That’s why they had to do surgery, but she’s out of danger now. Her recovery will just be a bit longer, that’s all.”

He’d decided to leave out certain portions of the story, such as how haggard Cottle looked in the recovery room and how Sophie had needed to be resuscitated, but Lee could tell from the look on his dad’s face that Bill got the gist.

“Congratulations, son,” the Admiral said simply, patting his son’s shoulder again. “And pass that on to Kara too.”

“Thanks, I will, Dad.”

Bill nodded and turned, beginning to stride away, but stopped short just as he made it to the door of the makeshift nursery. He cocked his head as if he’d suddenly remembered something, and looked back at Sophie with a small smile.

“What?” Lee asked, curious himself now.

“It’s your brother’s birthday, Lee,” Bill said, his voice gentle now, almost reverent. “She was born on Zak’s birthday.”

Lee sucked in a surprised breath, mentally running a quick calculation, feeling a sharp pang of guilt that he’d forgotten. _Zak_. He’d said it to Dee just a few days earlier, angry as he’d been at the time about the scheduling of the interrogation. But with Kara going into labour during the questioning, and then the dramatics of Sophie’s birth, he had completely forgotten.

His father’s eyes were now fixed on the floor. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Lee stroked Sophie’s palm, and her fingers latched on to his. With that, he found the courage to speak.

“It’s all right. I think … I think Zak would like sharing a birthday with his niece.”

Bill nodded. “Yes, I think he would.”


End file.
